


Rewritten

by fadingtales



Category: Gossip Girl, Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-10-15
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2017-11-18 07:02:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/558189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadingtales/pseuds/fadingtales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thinking back Blair realizes that maybe things would've been different if she didn't go home that night. Maybe Damon would've grown tired of waiting and left. Maybe then everything would've gone according to plan. And maybe, just maybe she wouldn't have swayed like she did, like she would, like she does every single time he comes stumbling into her life. Then again history has a way of repeating itself and in the end she's not sure if she wants it rewritten. Blair/Damon, crossover fic. !DISCONTINUED! Please see last chapter for author's note.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One: In the Beginning Again

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Takes place before GG s2x13 and acts as an alternate continuation of TVD s2x1.

She finds herself coming home once again to an empty house. Eleanor is in Milan, already working on her spring collection for Waldorf Designs even though it is only fall. She doesn't even recall the last time she heard from Harold anymore. He's too preoccupied with his French model to care about the high school dramatics of a teenage daughter.

She doesn't blame them too much for their absentee parenting. You can compel a lot of things, but parental affection is not an emotion you can easily replicate. So she fights the disappointment, pushes aside the insecurities and calls it "Blair Waldorf's" and not her own. She's done it this before and every time it's the same.

The human race just doesn't change. The earth goes on revolving about its orbit and people continue to go about their lives frantically searching for approval, success, love. They grasp at straws to make some sort of miniscule footprint on the world before they leave it, but the reality of it is that they are all ants just scurrying about.

She rationalizes it this way every single time and yet despite all the cynicism, she finds herself once again caring a little too much for her human companions for it to be kosher and it all ends up sounding hypocritical.

Maybe it's because she's played the part of being human for so long and so well that she even manages to sometime forget that she's not one of them only to rebuke herself for caring later on.

It's one of those times when she's gotten too caught up with petty high school politics and It Girl best friends and the simplicity of being just a girl that he shows up again. Reminding her that no matter how hard she tries to fit in, she's not human.

"Hey there, stranger."

Blair stops short in her tracks and waits till the lights turn on before she replies even though she would recognize that voice anywhere.

"You have got to be kidding me. What are you doing here?"

Damon Salvatore pushes himself out of his chair and walks towards her with a roguish smile on his lips. It's a look she has come to recognize as him being up to no good from the time they've spent together.

"A 'hi' might have been nice."

To say the least she was in no mood to be receiving guests. Especially if that guest was a cocky, attention whoring, hundred and seventy year old vampire who she hasn't seen in a good handful of years.

"Who let you in?"

"Your housekeeper," He answers flippantly. "Maybe you should look into training them better."

"I assure you I trained them very well to turn away ruffians like you."

"Training isn't really much use if I compel them."

"Well then your little snarky comment is moot isn't it?"

"Why are you always so mean to me?" he pouts.

"Because you deserve it," Blair answers simply.

"Now is that how you treat old friends?"

"I wasn't aware we've labeled ourselves as that."

Barbed banter is their usual form of communication and it's a little shocking to her that she can so easily pick up where they left off. She had expected it to be harder, given the circumstances of which they last seen each other, but since he's so keen on moving along like nothing happened she's only too happy to oblige.

Damon shoots a charming smile her way before making a beeline towards the bar to make himself a glass of scotch.

"Oh yes, please make yourself at home." Her voice drips sarcasm, but he only continues to smile aggravatingly.

"Thank you! I will," he replies smugly. "Care to join me?"

She's tempted to throw him out on his ass. It's been a long day and all she wanted to do was fill up a bubble bath with some scented candles, maybe a nice bottle of wine, and let the hot water work out the kinks she has in her shoulders. She's getting lost in the thought when a pair of strong masculine hands inserts themselves in her little daydream, kneading out those aforementioned kinks of hers. She lets herself enjoy it for just a second before she shuts it down with the mental acuity of a metal trap.

"But we were just getting to the good part," he whines, wincing from the backlash of her mental rebuff.

"Stay out of my head, Salvatore," she drawls.

"I was just trying to lend a help hand," he smirks.

She gives him a pointed stare to which he answers with a pout.

"I'm a little too tired right now to be playing your games," she sighs, rubbing her temples with her forefinger.

"Well, if you're still bent on taking that bubble, by all means go. Don't let me stop you from getting naked. Actually I insist on it."

She sneers at him, but soon finds herself sitting on the opposite side of the couch with a glass of red wine in her hands. For awhile they just sit there sipping at their respective drinks, him staying on his side and she staying on hers, trying to read each other without looking obvious.

"I've been hearing some disturbing rumors surrounding Mystic Falls…" she starts.

"Oh yeah things are happening alright," he affirms, taking a rather generous swallow of his drink. "Turns out that the bitch is alive and kicking."

They both know who he's talking about. If there's ever a woman to leave a bitter aftertaste it would be Katherine Pierce.

"Did it not go well? No epic swelling of music? No explosion of fireworks and electricity?"

"She tells me it's always been Stefan. It's always Stefan."

The topic is a sore one and it doesn't escape her notice that he's already on his fifth drink.

"I told you so. Hasn't Hollywood taught you anything? She's just not that into you."

The comment earns her a chuckle, temporary diffusing the tension between them that is always inevitable whenever Katherine is in concern.

"No kidding. Now she's trying to torture Elena, that's the doppelganger who's macking with Stefan by the way, and killing people left and right, wreaking all sorts of havoc. Oh yeah and there's like a werewolf thing on the loose." He gives up pour out his drinks and takes a swig straight from the bottle instead.

"Doppelgangers and werewolves huh?"

"Yep. Something to do with a Sun and Moon curse. Heard of it?"

"… Can't say that I have," she answers carefully.

"Well, it's an awful mess."

"Shouldn't you be back in Mystic Falls then?"

He shrugs nonchalantly. "Stefan will handle it."

She snorts derisively. "I don't know how he puts up with you."

"He's not supposed to. It's part of the whole 'torture you for all eternity' thing."

"You need to go see someone about that brother complex of yours."

"I'll get right on that. Maybe you can recommend me that psychiatrist of yours that got you over your 'eating disorder'," he comments snidely, air quotes and all. "Does he have you snacking on bunnies and cuddly woodland creatures like Stefan?"

She snorts and swirls her glass. "Don't be silly. I'm much too classy to dine on Thumper and Bambi."

"Must be nice that faux-daddy owns a blood bank," he comments offhandedly, revealing that he's been looking into her.

He's being sloppy with his comments, a sure fire sign that he's consuming alcohol at a faster rate than his liver's healing. He's obviously upset, but she knew that the moment she saw him.

"Don't you think you've had enough?"

"Nope." He takes a health swig out of the bottle to demonstrate his point. "I'm good."

"So with all the trouble you've been having with she-who-shall-not-be-named you decided to… what? Run away and come whining to me about your girl problems?"

He flinches and for a second she realizes she might be going too far, but soon enough he recovers with a quick smile on his lips.

"Enough about me. What's going on with… what's his name again? Chuck Bass is it? The tabloids have so much to say about young Bass. None of them too appealing."

"That's none of your business."

"Oh come on. I've shown you mine, now you show me yours. Dish."

"What are we? Twelve?"

He stops midway in his drink and peers over at her above his glass.

"You're just making me more curious and you know what happens when I get curious."

He's watching her carefully, trying to decipher whatever emotions lies underneath the cool mask of indifference. She realizes that if she doesn't tell him what he wants to hear, he'll just keep on persisting so she gives in.

"It's... complicated," she finishes lamely.

"The best ones always are," he answers waving her off. "There's a reason Romeo and Juliet has survived the ages."

"They died in the end," she points out.

Damon scoffs and waves off her comment.

"Yeah, well… death isn't that big of a deal. I mean we got over it didn't we?" he replies with a shrug.

"Spoken like a true romantic. I always knew you were a softie underneath that whole black leather exterior," she teases.

"Oh, there's a whole lot more underneath the black leather exterior. We can always bring this upstairs if you care to find out," he flirts lightheartedly.

"So why are you here? Tell me the truth, Damon."

"Do I need a reason? Can't you just be happy that I am?"

"We haven't spoken to each other in over five years and suddenly you're on my doorstep? I don't think so."

He's been ice skating around the answer long enough.

"I missed you," he says simply.

She gives him a pointed look.

"And maybe you missed me?" he prods.

She raises one perfectly manicured eyebrow in his direction before finishing her drink.

"You know I love it when you play hard to get."

"You should know by now that I'm not playing," she retorts snappily.

Despite everything, if she were to be perfectly honest, she's happy to see him. Even if that happiness is preceded by foreboding.

"It's not like you would ever step foot into Mystic Falls, so I thought I'd come to you instead."

"There's a reason I don't step foot into Mystic Falls."

"Why not? Are you afraid of realizing that you're just completely in love with me and if we left New York all of those perfect excuses you've formed in your head might just implode?"

He leans in closer so that his lips are mere inches from hers causing the temperature in the room to rise instantly. It's remarkable how undead creatures can cause such semblance of heat.

"I've miss you. You should've come to visit me. Stefan got Lexi to visit him," he whines. "I mean sure she ended up staked-"

"By you no less," she interjects.

He's smirking, but it doesn't match his tone of voice. "Just another excuse for not coming to see me… why is that?"

He leans in even closer if that was possible. From her vantage point, his rosy cheeks are a clear indication that he's beyond wasted for the evening.

"I don't step foot into Mystic Falls because it's a middle-of-nowhere shit hole," she replies sweetly, shoving him back into his proper place on the other side of the couch.

He laughs and she breathes a silent sigh of relief.

"Must you be so rough?"

"Only because you like to misbehave."

He straightens up and composes him and distracts himself with sorting the empty liquor bottles by descending order.

"Is it everything you wanted it to be?" he asks suddenly.

"What do you mean?

"This life that you created. Do you like it? Do you like playing 'her'? This 'Blair Waldorf'?"

He's changed the topic and gone all sober on her and she hates it when he does that.

"Why are you being such a buzzkill?"

He chuckles. "Yeah, you're right. I am." He leans back on the couch and tilts his head towards the ceiling, the grin on his face not matching his eyes.

He's a mess and she hurts for him.

"Do you have a place to stay?"

The words come out of her mouth before she even thinks it through.

He looks up from his drink to meet her eyes. "Are you offering?"

She'd just rather not let him loose on the city on the chance he runs into Chuck or Nate or, god forbid, Serena without her there to supervise the interaction.

"Scared I might hurt your little humans?" he says, reading her mind.

She scowls at him. "Stop mind reading, it's against the rules."

"I don't like rules."

"My place, my rules. So, do you want to stay or not?"

"Yes, please," he answers cheekily trying to give her his best wide eyed innocent look.

She gets up from her seat to go make up a bed for him in the guestroom and he watches her from his position on the couch. The image of her bustling about is much too nostalgic for him to break his gaze.

xxx

London 1912

He had hoped that a change of setting would make him mourn Katherine less. The task had seemed within reach at the time considering all the young ladies batting their eyelashes (and lifting their skirts) in his direction. Not too surprisingly, he quickly acquired himself a reputation for making a sport of seducing debutantes and young widows alike. The distractions worked… until they didn't any longer. Once again his dreams were haunted by lips that would curl seductively in his direction revealing sharp white fangs. You don't simply get over someone like Katherine easily. She's the type to brand her image into your soul for all of eternity. He comes to the conclusion then that London has lost its appeal.

Six mere hours until his ship departs back to the good 'ole US of A. The waiter hands him a check that he doesn't even bother opening. One of the benefits of immortality is the wealth accumulated merely by letting it sit there gathering interest. That of course and an impressive collection of priceless artifacts and antiquities (Stefan's idea). Of course the condition of his fortune was of no consequence considering that he was handsome, charming, and possessed a unique ability for weaseling his way out of sticky situations.

He almost makes it out the door when the waiter comes running towards him. If he thought about it, everything would have been different had he just been a few seconds faster. A couple seconds more and he would've been out the door. Alas, fate is a funny thing.

"This is for you, sir."

Damon takes the calling card from the waiter with a puzzled look.

"From the lady in the corner booth," the man clarifies.

Damon smirks, convinced that yet another newlywed London socialite had spotted him seeking a good dalliance that her elderly husband cannot provide. He recalls thinking that as promising as that sounds, he's tired and still has things to pack before he boards his ship. Then he looks up and sees her and all thoughts falls to the wayside.

xxx

She has only been in London for barely a day and stories of his sordid affairs were already the talk of the Upper Ten. It was luck, or maybe something more, that brought them both at the same restaurant that day. He was on his way out and she on her way in. That was the way with them throughout future years to come. They were never really ever on the same page. The universe is funny that way.

She was quite pleased to see his puzzled face as the waiter dutifully handed him her calling card. Even more so when she realizes that she's caught him off guard. Damon Salvatore can be quite handsome even when his mouth is hanging ajar like a gaping fish. She is glad to see that the rumors weren't all tall-tales.

She lifts one eyebrow in amusement in his direction, a coy smile playing on her lips, before turning her attention back on her dining partner. She is sure that this won't be the last time she'll see him again.

xxx

He's seen his fair share of beautiful women, but the moment he laid eyes on her, there was something different, something electric. He's not a believer of love at first sight, but nevertheless he found his curiosity piqued. Perhaps it was the way her eyes didn't match her mouth. They had a devilish glint to them that didn't match the sweet red bow shape of her lips.

Damon turns the card over to reveal neat curling script which read:

Marble Hill 7 o'clock

He smirks and looks one more time in her direction before tipping the waiter generously and walking out the door.

He never makes it on board his ship.

xxx

She sneaks into his room when he's presumably sleeping. She's both happy and sad to see him there. Despite his bravado, she knows that Katherine's return has got him rattled. So much that he'd come all the way here to find her. She hasn't seen him in years and she frets about how much skinnier he looks even though he's probably the exactly the same as he was when they were together a century ago. His coming here won't bode well for her she knows, but she can't turn him away.

He could feel her presence watching over him as he feigns sleep. He knows that it was selfish of him to come to her now, but he couldn't help himself. She was the only one that would understand.

He's done an awful lot of things throughout his very long existence and he regrets a lot of them. He regrets meeting Katherine, he regrets thinking he was in love with her and he regrets all the lives that have been lost because of his foolhardy obsession. The only thing he doesn't regret is meeting Blair Waldorf. In the dark abyss that is trying to swallow him whole, she's the only anchor to the light. He had tried to replace her with Elena, but she's too much like Katherine for it to work. He can't fight the past if it's staring back at him straight in the face.

He realizes that he doesn't have the right to come in now and inject all his baggage, all that is messed up and wretched about his life, into hers. He knows this, but he's a selfish bastard.

"You never should've come find me," Blair sighs.

Whether the sentiment was meant only for his or her ears he's not quite sure.

"I'm going to regret this aren't I?" she whispers into the darkness.

He agrees with her, but doesn't move a muscle. He just goes on with the façade of sleep and waits till she turns away and closes the door softly behind her.

xxx

They've both done this before. They are both acting as the same characters in the same messed up story time and time again. The beginning always starts with him besides her and it always end with one of them alone and the other walking off in the opposite direction. They've both grown tired of expecting it to turn out differently and yet here they are back at the beginning.


	2. Chapter Two: Dancing with the Devil

She wakes up to find him gone. She's not surprised, but she's disappointed and she hates that she is.

He'd show up when he wants and leaves when he wants. In and out of her life as suddenly as he came into it. Inconsiderate of any consequences that may result. That's the typical Damon she thinks dispassionately. Then she rebukes herself and recalls that actually that's not quite true.

She was the one that left the first time.

"I'm sorry… I can't be what you need."

"You don't have to be. Just… don't leave. I just want you to be here. Just stay," he pleads.

"I can't."

"Wait, please."

She doesn't.

She shakes away the memories and the old regrets and goes back to curling her hair to perfection. She has a busy day today and she doesn't have time to waste thinking about Damon or what could have been or what is that cannot be changed. She tries smiling at a reflection that doesn't want to smile back and gives up before shutting the door behind her.

xxx

The party had been in the making for weeks from what she could gather from Serena's not so subtle interrogations. To reward her friend for the effort, she had left various rather obvious (obvious to people other than Serena Van der Woodsen) clues to how she'd like her birthday party to go. So when she turned the key and opened the door to find the entire Upper East Side population all decked out to the nines on the other side screaming surprise at her, champagne glasses in their hands, it wasn't the reason why her eyes went wide in shock.

Rather it was the presence of a certain tall, dark and irritatingly handsome vampire standing beside her best friend, with a rather smug look on his face.

"Happy Birthday, Blair!" Serena gushes.

She blinks several times as the blonde pulls her into a tight hug and Damon smirks at her over Serena's shoulder.

xxx

It is fifteen minutes past seven and he finds himself walking towards the grand white house on Marble Hill. The usher asks for his name and he hands him the calling card he had received earlier that day.

"Welcome, Mr. Salvatore. Please come on in."

Damon tips his hat to the usher and takes a step across the threshold and through double doors that reveal a lively party in progress.

In the midst of the hoard of polite society, he sees his mystery lady presiding over a group of London's finest plutocrats. Amongst them he recognizes several eligible bachelors.

"Mr. Salvatore. How lovely for you to join us. I wasn't sure if you were coming," she greets as he makes his way towards her circle.

"How could I refuse your invitation, Ms. Waldorf? I apologize for the tardiness," he says, smiling at the surrounding gentry. As he leans in to give her the customary kiss on the cheek he whispers, "I just didn't realize that your invitation was to a party."

"Do you often get invitations of a more intimate nature from ladies you've only just met?" she whispers back in a falsely scandalized voice.

Unfortunately society customs restricted him from answering as he wished before another gentleman clasped his shoulder in a hearty greeting.

"Salvatore! I wasn't aware you and Ms. Waldorf were acquainted!"

"Oh, Mr. Salvatore and I have only just recently met but I'm sure we'll become fast friends. Won't we, Mr. Salvatore?" Blair chimes in.

She's pretty when she smiles, he notices. Yet there was something about the glint of those pearly whites that seems to suggest they are of a more feral nature than young English ladies should possess.

"Fast friends indeed, Ms. Waldorf," he answers.

From the get go, he found himself so completely enamored in a way he had wholly unsuspected he was capable of being, at least not for anyone other than the infamous Katherine Pierce.

xxx

By now she should be used to finding him in unexpected places, but she still hasn't gotten over it. No matter how many times he surprises her.

"Were you surprised?" Serena asks.

"Completely," Blair answers truthfully. "And you even got my good old friend Damon to come!"

She tries sounding cheerful, but judging from his wince she knows she must have failed. The stress on "old" comment was probably unnecessary and Serena's eyebrows are knitting together in confusion as Damon rolled his eyes despite maintaining the smiling façade.

"What are you doing here?" she says sweetly through gritted teeth.

"Surprising you," he answers cheekily.

"Blair, you should've told me that you had an old friend visiting! It was a good thing I ran into him earlier this morning so that he could make it to your party!" Serena chirps.

"Well… he's only in town for a little while so I didn't bother."

"All the more reason!"

"Yes… well… that's just wonderful," she bites out exasperatedly. "Serena, do you mind if I borrow Damon for a second?"

She doesn't wait for an answer; her hand is already in a death grip on Damon's arm tugging him away.

She drags him through the throngs of people wishing her a happy birthday. Her smiles more like grimaces than anything that resembles pleasure.

They reach the end of the hallway and she shoves him into the first empty room she finds, which as it turns out was Serena's bedroom.

"Whao there, Waldorf. If you wanted to get me alone and have you way with me you could've just asked. No need to man handle me."

"What are you doing here?" she demands.

"Well, I can't miss a Waldorf soiree could I? To be honest, Blair, I'm hurt that you didn't invite me yourself."

"It was a surprise party, how could I have invited you?"

"Oh please. You hate surprises. I'm pretty sure you micromanaged the entire thing yourself."

"Apparently I did a great job because guess what? I succeeded. Here I stand before you surprised!"

"Aren't you a little bit happy that I'm here for your birthday?"

"Damon, look… it's been a while since we've seen one another so maybe you didn't get it when I told you the first time. I don't kill people anymore. I may not be Stefan the squirrel-eating-vampire, but I don't live like that anymore. I know how you are and I get it. And I'm fine with it too, but not my people, Damon. My people are off limits. Do you understand?"

Her people. It wounds him to recall that she's formed a life for herself now that doesn't include him. Why does it feel like he's constantly stuck in the past and she's moved on?

"I couldn't care less about your little humans."

"Then give me your word that you won't touch them."

"You really need that much confirmation?" He says when what he means to say is, "Is your trust in me so little?"

"Yes."

It amazes him how a single syllable could sting harder than a slap to the face.

She sees the hurt slip through his nonchalance, and she hates herself for it, but he needs to know that she has people to protect now. It can't be like it used to be anymore.

"You'd do the same. If it were your people, you'd do the same, Damon," she reasons, whether it's with herself or with him it's not clear.

"I have no such thing."

"You have me," she wants to say, but it doesn't quite leave her lips. She just stands there, fists clenched at her sides, biting her tongue.

"I won't hurt your humans. I swear it."

He turns the other cheek and buries the hurt deep while simultaneously turning back on that same old charming Salvatore smile.

He plops himself on the bed, reaches into his pocket and throws the contents in her direction.

She catches it one handedly with the reflexes that only the supernatural possess. It's funny how easily she can slip back into her vampiric nature when he's around.

"What is this?"

"Open it," he says.

"Why? Are snakes going to come out?"

"Open it," he presses.

She opens the box and looks back up at him, blinking in a mixture of shock and confusion.

"It's not Erickson Beamon, but it was a hell lot harder to find."

She frowns as she realizes he's been keeping stricter tabs on her than she originally thought.

"How did you come by this?"

He doesn't answer and merely gets up and takes the box from her, and pulls out the antiquated locket strung on a delicate gold necklace and drapes it around her throat.

"I know it might clash a bit with your outfit, but…"

"You found my mother's locket."

"Yes… the catch on the lock is still broken though. I couldn't get the jeweler to fix it without damaging it," he answers.

Her mother's locket had been pawned off ages ago when her family lost everything and has been traded through so many hands she's lost count. She had given up trying to find it, but apparently he took up the task himself. She shouldn't be surprised that he remembered, he remembers everything. Even the things she wishes he would forget.

"Must you always go for the dramatic grand gesture? A simple card would have been sufficient."

"Now you and I both know that you would flay me alive if I came bearing a mere hallmark card."

"You can't always fix everything with shiny baubles, you know."

"No, but I can try. It worked out alright the first time," he replies, glancing down at the ever present ruby ring on her finger.

She self consciously hides her hand behind her back.

"That's different. It was a practical gift. This… is more sentimental. And not like you."

"You don't like it?"

"Of course I do," she sighs. "That's what's bothering me. I'm supposed to be angry with you."

"A simple thank you would have sufficed."

"I… I thought you left this morning."

"Well I didn't."

"I can see that."

She fingers the locket and watches him through the mirror on top Serena's vanity table. This type of gift doesn't come out of thin air. It means that he had been planning a visit a long time coming and it wasn't just Katherine's sudden appearance that prompted him to come find her. She doesn't know whether she should be pleased or worried.

"I… guess I owe you an apology now or something."

"Yes. Yes, you do," he replies smugly as he positions himself in a lounging position, hands tucked behind his head. "You've been very mean to me."

"Well you can't really blame me. We both know how you are."

"Is that your idea of an apology? You can do better than that."

"I'm sorry," she says. "And thanks… for the gift."

He laughs. "Better. But it's not going to be that easy. However I do like your progress."

He takes several steps towards her until they were but a hand span away.

Leaning in, he whispers in her ear, "I'm going to make you work for it."

The words sends shivers down her spine, whether in pleasure or terror she's not quite sure. He backs off and gives her his double edged smile.

"People will start talking if the birthday girl isn't at her own party and we wouldn't want that would we?"

"No…"

"Better get back out there then."

She watches him wearily as he walks to the door and closes it behind him as he rejoins the party on the other side. She waits exactly five minutes before following him out the door.

xxx

He watches her throughout the evening as she makes nice with various very (self)important persons. Her every action is the picture of a lady of high society. It's all just a little too perfect, a little too neat and when Damon sees something so pristine he feels the need to dirty it.

He manages to catch her in a rare moment of solitude when she goes to powder her nose, shutting the door close behind him and wicked thoughts in his head.

"Mr. Salvatore. How strange to find you in the ladies' room… unless there's a secret you are hiding that you'd like to share with me?" she says slyly as she glances down to his nether regions. "I should've known that the rumors about you were too outrageous to be true."

"Oh yes, they are much more outrageous in reality," he answers glibly. "And should you ever need me to prove it to you, I will be happy to oblige."

"You're a real charmer aren't you? You must think yourself a gift to womankind."

"I consider myself a champion of beautiful ladies, such as yourself."

"Does that line usually work for you?"

"Usually."

"Well there's a first time to everything isn't there?"

"I have a feeling that this will become the first of many more to come."

She smirks and turns back to the mirror to powder her nose.

"And what about you, Ms. Waldorf? You appear to be a darling in society… the perfect lady. And yet…"

"And yet what?"

She closes her compact with a snap and turns around to meet his eyes again. They are quite the most beautiful sea-blue eyes she has ever seen.

"And yet you're not what you seem."

"I'm not? Then please enlighten me. What am I?"

"You are not as well mannered as you'd like people to think." He punctuates his words with a kiss on the inside of both her wrists. "There's a fire in your eyes, that doesn't match the innocent smile on your lips."

"You are overstepping your boundaries, Mr. Salvatore," she warns.

"Then why are you smiling?" he grins."Devilishly so might I add. Quite different from the one you show to everybody else."

She wretches her hands from his and stalks away.

"I long to find out just exactly what kind of skeletons you are hiding in your closet, Ms. Waldorf," he calls out after her.

She pauses in her step to give him a most infuriatingly striking smile over her shoulder that translates as two parts scorn and one part come-hither. He always did love a good chase.

xxx

This is the second time Damon has been "introduced" to Chuck Bass and despite all the delighted-to-make-your-acquaintance's and nice-to-meet-you's he means not a single word. It might be his possessiveness talking, but he doesn't quite like the affections Blair has grown for the human boy. Nevertheless, he doesn't like to be on Blair's bad side and so he behaves himself and keeps his conversations fairly civil.

"So did the circus have a clearance sale on suits or something?"

Fairly being the operative word.

Before the young Bass could dish out his own acerbic insult involving Fonzie references, Blair had pulled Damon away to 'introduce' him to other guests.

"Must you be a jackass all of the time?" Blair whispers severely all the while smiling sweetly and waving to an acquaintance across the room.

Why is it that he always has to seesaw between being sweet one moment and being a complete inconsiderate asshole the next? It makes it all the more difficult for her to keep her current normal life separate from her past when she's too busy trying to decipher which role he's playing.

"It was just a bit fun. A bit of banter between a superior man and a slightly more inferior one."

She's not having any of it and so he pulls on his most charming smile.

"Oh, don't be angry."

She continues glaring daggers at him, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. He would have made a comment about how their position is doing wonders for her cleavage if only she wasn't trying to vaporize him with her eyes at the moment.

"You're ruining the festive mood. Come on, I was just having fun. You know fun? You use to have it."

"Don't antagonize, Chuck. I don't want to deal with your stupid little posturing competition. There's enough drama without you patronizing him. This is why I didn't want you two to meet."

"But we already met," he corrects.

"That was ages ago! And I wiped that!"

"What's the harm? I gave you my word didn't I?"

"And what about flirting with Serena?"

"I was just being nice!" he says defensively. Secretly he's pleased that she noticed.

"You cause trouble wherever you go, Damon. And then you're going to leave when the dust settles. But you know what? I'm still going to be here. It's my life now. And I'm going to have to deal with all the consequences of your actions when you're gone."

She makes a move to leave when his hand catches hers.

"I was stupid."

She rolls her eyes and opens her mouth to make an acerbic addendum, but he cuts her off.

"And jealous. I haven't seen you in forever and your 'friends' have been monopolizing you all night."

Once again, he makes her sway in the way that only he could.

Her hard glare seems to have softened after that and so he decided to push his luck.

"Dance with me. Come on, you owe me a dance," he smiles charmingly.

She rolls her eyes, but extends her hand all the same.

His mind wanders to memories of various ballroom parties; the lighting on her face in particular reminds him of the one in 1961. If he recalls correctly she was turning eighteen at that one, too.

xxx

She leans forward, closes her eyes and makes a wish. Eighteen candles are soon extinguished amidst the cheers and clapping of London's best and brightest. They are all clamoring birthday wishes in her direction, but her attention is on one person and one person alone.

"Happy birthday," he murmurs before retreating back into the crowd as others make their way to give her similar greetings.

His kiss on her cheek had been chaste, but his eyes had promised something of a more wicked nature for when he gets her alone and away from prying eyes.

After the cake is cut and more champagne is poured, she makes her excuses and goes looking for him.

She finds him easily enough, sitting outside on the balcony despite the freezing temperature. As she steps outside she pulls the collar of her coat up to cover her ears.

"You're a real pro, you know that?" he says without turning around to face her.

"Excuse me?"

"This act that you keep up, this semblance of being human, you never let the façade drop. Not even for a second. There's no one watching, yet you still feign cold. Have you ever consider yourself being on the silver screen? You'd make a wonderful actress. I would come watch every single screening."

"I'm not quite sure whether you are complimenting me or insulting me."

He feigns getting shot through the heart. "Waldorf, you wound me. I was merely complimenting your skill of feigning cold temperatures and tolerating boring socialites. You know that when you are in concern I only pay the highest of compliments."

"Your glib tongue strikes again, Salvatore. You better rein it in or one day somebody might cut it off," she scolds as she playfully tugs on his silk tie.

"I love it when you play rough," he whispers as he leans in and kisses her thoroughly.

Her hands reach instinctively around his neck to draw him closer. If anyone asks she'll just tell them that they were trying to stave off the cold.

xxx

The song ends and the memories fade to black.

"Happy birthday," he whispers, kissing her once again softly on the cheek. He lingers for a beat too long to suit social etiquette, but she forgives him his slight.

She smiles at him one last time before pulling away to join the ranks of Serena and the rest of her little breakfast club. She belongs to them now and he doesn't miss Young Bass's hard glare in his direction.

Somehow they've both reach a place where even the happy memories leave a bittersweet aftertaste.

xxx

Serena drunkenly kisses her repeatedly goodbye as the limo stops in front of her house. Nate has to peel her off so that Blair can leave. Damon is already waiting on the steps as the rest of Blair's extensive entourage says their final birthday wishes and adieus.

Chuck catches her wrist as she steps outside the car.

"I don't like that he's staying with you," he whispers.

"It's only for a little while. He'll be gone soon."

"I don't like that he's in love with you."

"He's not," she answers glancing back at Damon who appears to be mesmerized by the top of his shoes.

"Deny all you want. I know that look."

"What look?" she sighs exasperatedly.

"The same one that I give you when I think you're not watching."

"I'm always watching," she replies.

"Then you're not paying enough attention."

With that he leans back inside the vehicle and shuts the door.

As the limo pulls away from the curb and blurring into the neon lights of the city, Damon appears by her side.

"You play a complicated game, Blair. Has my presence riled enough jealousy out of young Bass?"

"Not everything is a game, Damon. Some things are just complicated all on their own. I'm tired and I'm going to bed."

"Bass doesn't need to worry. I'll be gone by tomorrow."

She pauses, but doesn't turn around to face him and instead continues unlocking the door.

"So try and fight those bitter tears knowing that you lucked out on an extension of my joyful presence," he comments flippantly.

She turns the door knob, stepping past the threshold.

"If you're leaving tomorrow then you'll need your rest. So stop hovering outside and come in already," she calls over her shoulder, leaving the door open for him.

xxx

True to his word Damon was gone the next morning. Only difference from yesterday was that she expected it. There will be no surprise birthday parties, no trips down memory lane or nostalgic ballroom dances. No more shared smiles that are lined with melancholy, no soft gestures hiding regret. Just a cold bedroom and a sense of emptiness as she resumed what has become her daily routine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm having a lot of fun writing the flashback sequences of this story, but I don't necessary include them in chronological order so let me know if anything is confusing. =) This chapter ended up slightly more gloomy than I wanted, but hopefully future ones will show some happier times in Damon and Blair's history. That being said, I'm rather pleased with this chapter because it sets up quite a bit of their background which will build up future chapters. I hope you enjoyed reading and I love hearing you comments and feedback so leave me a message!


	3. Chapter Three: Old Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for the belatedness of this chapter. I've been caught up in the wonderful world of tumblr and rpging (a TVD/GG crossover rpg! XD And I play Damon ;-D) so I've been negligent of this fic. I actually had a majority of it written, but hadn't had a chance to look it over and tie up some loose threads. So here it is now. I hope you enjoy it! I promise the next chapter will be more timely. In the mean time if you want some more Blamon goodness, check out my tumblr for gifs and graphics with occasional drabbles. =)

She almost made it back to her normal routine, the thoughts of Damon stubbornly placed in the back recesses of her mind. She preoccupies herself with the prospects of Yale and dancing circles around the whole Chuck thing while trying to calm Serena on her latest boy dramatics. What he told her across the threshold of the limo that night before Damon left had been the last time he's brought up any topic concerning them in any romantic capacity, but she had expected it. It had been a lapse on his part, born out of petty jealousy towards Damon and probably one too many single malt scotches. After all, he was the one who said they had to wait. That maybe in the future…

She's being naively optimistic, but she's hanging on to those words like a promise. Not for the romance of it all, but for the fact that someday in the future all of this role-playing will become real. That all her lies won't have to be lies anymore. She hopes that someday like the doll that became a real boy, the vampire can one day become a real human. It's a fairytale, but she always had a soft spot for them.

But until then the illusion of normalcy is a fragile one, made even more delicate when people from her past keeps showing up on her doorstep.

"So you've really made yourself at home here haven't you? If you ask me, I preferred the estate in Cliveden better. Those were the good old days weren't they?"

Blair doesn't need to turn around to face her new visitor. She'd recognize that voice anywhere. It is the voice that haunts her dreams still.

She preoccupies herself with rearranging the contents of her vanity table in silence. Only once she finishes arranging her perfume bottles by descending size does she calmly go about shoving her new guest against a wall, her hands wrapping themselves firmly around Katherine Pierce's throat.

xxx

1891

The plan had been perfect. As far as anyone who mattered was concerned, Katherine Petrova, Katherine Pierce, whatever the name she goes by, was dead. She was rotting away in the tomb underneath a church that had burned down to cinders and ash, never to be opened. After centuries of constantly looking over her shoulder, of being terrified of every shadow at the corner of her eye in case it was him, she was granted a respite. The plan had been perfect.

Almost.

The problem with Katherine's perfect plan was that she had grown arrogant in its perfection. It made her sloppy, it made her reckless. It's been nearly thirty years since her assumed death and way too long since her self-exile from the European continent. Most important of all it's been centuries since she last visited her mother's grave site and it's about time she paid her respects. She comes to the conclusion that her fear of Klaus has kept her away from her homeland for long enough. Hubris thoughts, but she didn't care. She was tired of running, she was tired of hiding. Katerina Petrova was never meant to live in the shadows.

So with these thoughts in mind she finds herself boarding a boat headed across the Atlantic.

xxx

She hasn't seen her in years. Not since Chicago in 1983 to be precise. And even then the meeting had been coincidence. Then again, nothing is coincidence when Katherine is concerned.

"Your timing is impeccable as always. You only barely missed Damon."

"I know. I saw him leave. As always he was predictable. He runs to you the moment things get a bit too tough. Makes keeping tabs on him easy. Although I was surprised that he actually got through the front door this time. Usually he just waits on your doorstep and leaves without saying a world. Coward that he is."

"You are cruel."

"Not any more than you."

"Well I learned from the best," Blair hisses as she slams Katherine head against the wall for emphasis. The force of the impact makes a sickening crack that echoes in the empty room.

"Ow. That hurts," Katherine snarls.

Katherine gives her a maddening smirk before shoving her against the opposite wall hard enough to send all those neatly aligned perfume bottles on her vanity crashing to the floor.

"But I'm still older and stronger. I am, however, pleased to know that at least you haven't gotten soft from sipping on blood bags."

Blair violently pushes Katherine off her as the older girl laughs.

"Must you be so rough?" Katherine pouts as she attempts to fix her hair in the reflection of the cracked vanity mirror. "I hope you were gentler with the eldest Salvatore. He's still fragile from my rejection."

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Katherine?" Blair asks with false sweetness.

"Really, is this how you treat an old friend visiting you?"

"We're not friends. We are business partners. Don't expect me to welcome you with open arms whenever you show up unannounced. Besides, aren't you supposed to be dead?"

"I never thought the Salvatore brothers would go through with opening that damned tomb. I mean who in their right mind would?"

"Yes, well next time you plan to perish in a fire, you'll remember to make sure it's a more concrete story."

"I admit that was foresight that I lacked at the time. I had underestimated Damon Salvatore's devotion." Katherine pauses to watch Blair's reaction. "Still haven't hit that yet? I thought with him crawling to your side you might have helped him lick his wounds."

Katherine lilts one perfectly manicured eyebrow up quizzically in Blair's direction. What she gets in return is a silence and cold hard glare.

"You have no idea what you're missing out," she singsongs. "If anything, Damon Salvatore knows how to make love to a woman… but I think you remember… even if it was several decades ago. The man knows how to make these things memorable." She smirks as she trails a light finger down Blair's cheek only to have it slapped away. "If only he knew how much you've done for him," she sighs dramatically.

"Don't push me, Katherine. You've broken the terms of our deal and I will not hesitate to turn you out on your ass for Klaus to deal with."

"On the contrary, I did not violate any of your conditions. You wanted to me to play dead. I did. Just because Damon found out that I wasn't doesn't mean that I didn't try. So as far as I'm concerned our deal is still intact."

"Then you are more delusional than I give you credit for. I told you to stay away from Damon. Playing dead was a consequence, not a condition."

"Always his protector," Katherine laughs. "So tell me… how do you think he'd feel if he knew about our little arrangement?"

"Your threats don't scare me, Katherine."

"No? It should," she drawls as she begins to circle the younger vampire. She moves to pick up a photo on Blair desk of Eleanor and Cyrus in Paris.

"They look like nice people," Katherine comments. "It would be a pity if I killed them."

Blair merely rolls her eyes. She's heard it all before. The threats have started to stop sounding so threatening.

"Can we get this whole threatening the life of my family and everyone I love part of the evening over with quickly? I have somewhere to go in an hour."

Katherine scoffs. "Somebody's a little full of themselves."

"I am but a poor imitation of your conceit," Blair quips.

"Will this little meeting you're having with Nate Archibald? Hopefully it will be productive in your search. How is your little project going anyways?"

"I'm working on it," Blair grinds out.

"I think you've been indulging in your little role playing game a little too much. I have yet to see much progress. I should've known… you always had a tendency to go native when undercover."

"And you have yet to make any leeway on your end of the bargain either so you have no right to complain. You'll get what you want when I get what I want."

"Or I could just kill you."

"So you've said many times," Blair drawls. "Yet here I stand before you. So are we done here?"

"You know you should be more careful about that tone of yours. I might start to think you don't like me."

"Well you can stop wasting time thinking about it, Kat. It's true. Don't come back here. When I find something I'll contact you."

Blair gives her a casual wave of her hand as she pulls on her coat and stalks off. Katherine stands in the middle of the empty room watching as her silhouette disappears around the corner.

xxx

Katherine has always been a planner, a plotter, a schemer. But she was by no means omnipotent and could not have had the ability to foresee the storm that would capsize her ship. Neither was she aware of the fact that one of the shipmates was a vengeful member of the Lockwood family that had followed her on board. At least not until he poisoned her with vervain two nights before their ship was suppose to reach the English harbor.

But if anything Katherine was a survivor and so she finds herself washed up on English soil while the rest of the members of the ship sunk to the bottom of the dark icy sea.

After days of foraging through the English wilderness to avoid any prying eyes that might belong to Klaus and thereby blowing her fake death cover to kingdom come, she finds herself stumbling into the garden of an estate on the east bank of the River Thames.

It was a desperate move if anything that she even dared approach it, but she hasn't seen another living soul in weeks. And she was still weak from the vervain poisoning that she seems unable to shake off because she hasn't properly eaten since she washed ashore a week ago. The moment her feet reached the cobbled road leading to the entrance of the house she had collapsed.

The first night had been a blur of candle light shining in her face, the feeling of a damp washcloth on her forehead and the softness of being in bed for the first time in what seemed like forever.

She wakes up to the rather pesky chattering of a portly middle aged woman, clearly a maid from the look of her plain brown dress and apron. Not necessarily her choice of a good meal, but beggars can't be choosers and she was starving. Her eyes had already darkened with the hunger, but before she could make a move the door to the room bursts opens.

It was clear by the way the girl walked into the room that she could only be the young miss of the house. The way she held herself had a certain grace and posture to it that suggested she had been raised in the manners of the gentry. A highborn lady, Katherine concludes. She swallows her hunger and decides to wait out on dining on her new benefactor until she can find out what more she can get out of them other than a good meal.

"Oh, she's awake. Portia, you can leave the water basin there. I'll take care of it myself."

Katherine finds herself startled by the sound of the girl's voice. Despite all the English mannerisms her accent was that of a New Yorker and not an Englishwoman.

The plump maid curtsies and quickly makes her leave.

"To be honest I was quite sure you were dead, but that would have been horribly inconvenient so I'm happy to see you up. I'm afraid your clothes had to be burned. They were in a most horrid state and I doubt you would've wanted them back anyways."

"W-where am I?"

It's the first time she's spoken in ages and she finds it difficult to find her voice.

"Cliveden. This is my late mother's estate. I am the lady of the house for now while my father is in London attending business."

"Your late mother's estate?" She echoes.

"Yes. She died a year ago, but the estate is still under her name. Law offices can be awfully slow."

Katherine takes a moment to process everything. Since the owner of the estate is deceased it explains why she was allowed to enter it without an invitation.

"My gardener found you collapsed in our garden and brought you here," the girl explains as she hands Katherine a glass of water which Katherine takes eagerly. "May I ask you what brought you here? Despite the terrible condition of your clothing I noticed that they were of quite quality material. Nothing that a servant would be capable of affording….Unless you stole it from your mistress?" The girl wrinkles her nose in distaste. "You're not a runaway servant are you?"

"No…" Katherine replies cautiously. Stories upon stories are spinning in her head. "My family… they were killed. In a fire. I… I was on my way to my uncle's. He lives in Banbury. But my carriage was attacked by some highwaymen. I only barely managed to get away."

"How horrible! Who is your uncle? What is his correspondence? I will send for him right away."

As the girl stands and turns to call her maid to bring her pen and parchment Katherine clasps her hand.

"No! Please. You cannot let him find out where I am!"

A puzzled expression crosses the girl's face and she sits back down on the chair besides Katherine's bed.

"Why ever not?"

"He's a cruel man, my uncle. He's...violent and-" Katherine manages to conjure up some real tears by recalling memories of Klaus. "I think he had a hand in the death of my parents. No I am certain of it! Please! You cannot save me from certain death only to send me back into the arms of the grim reaper! For that is my fate should he find me. The bandits were a blessing compared to the fate that awaits me at his hands. Please," Katherine begs, she's so convincing she started to believe herself. "Don't let him find me."

"Isn't there anyone else I can send for you?" the girl asks carefully.

Her answer startles her. Not because it was unplanned, but because of the truth that resonated in the words.

"… I have no one."

The only truth in a web of lies, Katherine thinks bitterly.

The girl gets up from her seat once again and starts pacing the span of the room. For a long while she doesn't answer. Katherine's mind once again begins whirling with the usual Katherine scheming and plotting. But all the schemes and all the plans end prematurely with the girl's next words.

"Then it's settled. If you have no place to go you can stay here… I suppose."

She tries to sound nonchalant, but Katherine can sense a sort of excitement in her mismatched New Yorker voice. The girlish tone was an odd juxtaposition to the girl's otherwise collected bearing.

"I… I don't know what to say."

"Say yes. It's not like you have anywhere else to go. And I'm the only young lady within a hundred miles. It gets terribly lonely. I don't know what my father was thinking moving us here. But no matter, you're here now."

The smile the other girl gives is so bright that it makes Katherine squint.

"Thank you… for your generosity," she replies hesitantly unsure of how to handle uncoerced kindness.

The girl flashes yet another smile that rivals the sun and for a second Katherine's hand instinctually reaches to the daylight pendant that hangs around her neck.

"Brilliant. I'll have Portia bring over some new clothes immediately."

The girl gets up to leave, but Katherine calls her back.

"Wait. I should at least know the name of my benefactor. How should I address you, mistress?"

The girl smiles at her. "I'm Blair Waldorf. But just Blair will be fine. We're friends now after all."

She clasps Katherine's hand in hers in an affectionate squeeze.

"I'm very glad to have met you…Blair." She tests the name on her tongue and finds it oddly pleasing. "I think we will get along quite marvelously."

Thinking back she's surprised that given Blair's propensity for order and cleanliness, she's surprised she even made it inside the house and not turned away. She was surprised about a lot of things that happened.

They didn't always hate each other, despite what present evidence suggests. There was a time when the two were inseparable, but that was a long time ago. The only people that could recall their friendship are now nothing but dust and ash. Katherine shakes her head, letting the memories fade back into the background of her mind, as she mounts the steps to the large dark oak door to an Upper East Side townhouse.

xxx

Despite all of her bravado, Katherine's visit had shaken her much more than she would care to admit. The deal made between the them two had always been one dealt with via the intermediary of one Isobel Flemming. For Katherine to come see Blair in person was in itself a violation of their unspoken agreement. And when Katherine starts changing up the rules, it doesn't bode well for anyone.

Blair attempts to push such troubling thoughts into the back of her mind as she concentrates on her current task at hand.

Yale.

She could easily compel her way in, but Blair told herself that if she really wanted to move away from her past then she would need to do things the human way. Meaning, the hard way.

Somehow that meant babysitting the daughter of one of the Dean's friends on a Friday night. It wouldn't have been so bad had she been the Harry Potter loving little Virgin Mary that her mother claimed her to be instead of the little troublemaking party girl with rebellious teen issues whose sole mission seems to be to make her life miserable.

Finally, she miraculously got the little miscreant to sit still without the use of compulsion only to have the doorbell start ringing.

"Don't. Move," Blair warns as she goes to answer it. "It's probably the pizza I order. When I get back we're going to have that movie night that I promised your mother. So sit still or I'll make sure she finds out just what a little deviant you are."

She opens the door and immediately it's out of the pot and into the fire. She nearly stumbled backwards at the sight of Katherine leaning against the door frame, her arms folded in front of her. The expression on her face is one of thinly veiled mischief.

"Since when did you join the babysitter's club?" Katherine drawls. She nudges the threshold of the door way with the toe of her black leather boot as if testing the boundaries. "So you decided to stop being a fabulous vampire socialite for this? I think your priorities need to be straightened out."

Blair quickly glances back to make sure her new charge is staying put before she closes the door behind her. She takes a step across the threshold, forcing Katherine down a few steps so that she would be in a position to tower over the older vampire.

"What are you doing?" Blair whispers harshly. "I've put up with a lot, Katherine, but part of the deal was that you left me to do my own thing."

"Well here's the thing…" Katherine drawls, her mouth pursed as if in thought as she taps her chin with her finger. "I have a feeling that you aren't upholding your end of the deal."

"I told you," Blair hisses through clenched teeth. "I'm working on it."

"Then why aren't you with Nate? And what's this I hear about a Chuck Bass? I need that Vanderbilt ring, Blair. You've had a year to get it the nice way, now time is up. I want that ring."

"And you'll get it! In due time. You know that ring can't be taken forcefully anyways. It has to be freely given. But then again you don't really know anything about that do you?" Blair huffs. "Now leave! Otherwise our deal is off."

Without another word Blair turns on her heels and slams the door shut in Katherine's face.

Blair hasn't even finished exhaling a sigh of exasperation when she turns around and finds that her fifteen year old protégé in the making had disappeared.

xxx

They run all the way from the village back to the estate, laughing and giggling the entire way.

"Did you see the look on his face?" Katherine laughs. "Oh, you're a heartbreaker in the making. I bet he's going to call on you tomorrow," she teases.

"He's a butcher's son!" Blair exclaims.

"A handsome one," Katherine points out as if that was the answer to everything.

"My father would never allow a dalliance with such a commoner."

"Ugh! You're much more fun when you're not trying to be all prim and proper," Katherine pouts.

"And you're a bad influence," Blair retorts, still trying to catch her breath. Her usual perfectly coiffed hair is in disarray, but she feels more alive than she's ever felt before. Her cheeks are flushed a pretty pink, the sunset catching the gold in her usually dark brown hair.

"Oh, lighten up. This is the most fun you've had. You may act all nice and proper, but I know you enjoyed yourself. You liked having him wrapped around your little finger," Katherine teases and pinches Blair's cheeks teasingly. Blair laughs and swats her hand away."So when are you going to put away the gentle lady act?"

"We can't all be like you," Blair chastises good naturedly. In a more solemn tone she adds, "And I have responsibilities. If I am to be the heir to my father's fortune then I will have to learn accept certain duties."

Katherine sidles over to the other side of the wall where Blair is leaning against, taking the younger girl's hand in hers.

"Who needs responsibilities? Who need rules? They're just things that men created to restrict us women. One day, you and I… we will have the world kneeling at our feet. No more fear, no more hiding in the shadows of powerful men who treat our lives like mere pawns in their games. One day… we're going to make them fear us."

Blair smiles at the notion even though she knows that there was no way she would escape the path her father, her status, and her fate has predetermined for her. But at least for now she can revel in the fantasy that Katherine presents.

"I could always count on you to cheer me up, Kat. But what you speak of is mere fantasy. The world doesn't work like that. Father will be coming back soon and he'll be expecting me to receive him as a proper lady."

"I worry that you'll be taken advantage of."

Blair's face brightens. "Oh I wouldn't worry about that. I have you after all to take care of all the bad men out there hunting for an heiress."

"You have to learn that the only person you can count on is yourself. I can't be here to protect you forever you know," Katherine admonishes.

"Are you planning on going somewhere?"

The younger girl tries to play it off nonchalantly, but Katherine can hear the slight panicked tremor in her voice.

"No," she answers surprising herself.

That earns her a smile that makes Katherine realize that she likes having a place to belong to. She hasn't had one in so very long that she forgotten how it was like to have a home, to have a family, to have a sister.

"You must promise, Kat. You must promise not to leave me on my own."

She has always been Katerina or Katherine. Always been the selfish one, the manipulative one. That's just who Katerina and who Katherine is. She didn't know how to be any different because to be anything else would mean death. She always had to be ten steps ahead, be ruthless, be cruel. All in the name of survival. But here she is cast into a whole different role. For the moment at least she did not have to be anything other than… Kat. And she's finding that she likes being simply Kat very, very much.

"I'm not going anywhere."

At the time she had meant every word.

xxx

She mounts the stairs, her hand fisted around the note scrawled with a familiar handwriting. As Blair reaches the top, a blast of icy New York winter wind whips her hair from her face as she opens the door. After a long night of chasing she's finally found her rebellious protégé at the edge of the roof of the Empire hotel. To be precise she was dangling from it and Katherine's hand around her neck as the only anchor to solid ground.

"Blair! Please! Please help me! She's crazy!"

"Katherine," Blair says, training her expression to be calm and unfazed. "What are you doing? Let her go."

"You know, I always thought you were an Oxford girl."

"Let her go, Katherine. She's just a little girl. She doesn't even have anything to do with this. I barely even know her."

"And yet here you are lobbying for her life. You've gone softer than I thought."

"You'll only be drawing attention to yourself if you kill her. You wouldn't want Klaus to find you now would you?"

"True… but I've done riskier things for less." To emphasize her point, Katherine dangles the girl just a little further out over the edge.

"Please, please," the girl sobs. "I'll do anything you want! Please! Don't kill me! Please!" She turns to look at Blair, mouthing the words over and over, mascara smudged tears streaming down her face. "Don't let her kill me, please!"

"Fine! What is it that you want?" Blair snaps.

"Now that's what I like to hear. I need you in Mystic Falls."

"What about Nate's ring?"

"The ring is a dead end. I have better things for you to do."

"And what is that exactly?"

"Help the Salvatore brothers with their werewolf thing. You should be able to provide some good insight… point them in the right direction."

"You mean in the wrong one?"

"Not at all. The werewolves are good to me if they're in control. They need to know that us vampires are in charge."

"Fine. Whatever."

"That was easier than I thought."

"How does one please you exactly, Katherine? I say no and you don't like it. I say yes and you still aren't happy. What do you want?"

"Give me your word that you won't double cross me."

"I give you my word," Blair promises. "So let the poor girl go."

Katherine seems finally satisfied, a wicked smile splitting her face, and so she lowers the poor weeping girl to the floor.

Blair releases the breath she didn't know she was holding and begins to move towards the huddled sobbing figure, but Katherine's hand is quicker and before she can even blink, Katherine snaps the girl's neck.

"No!"

Blair rushes to the crumpled body, but she knows without even taking her pulse that it was too late.

"This is just a demonstration," Katherine whispers in her ear. "You cross me in any way and next time it won't be some random Yale donor's daughter. Next time it'll be your precious Serena or Nate. Or maybe it might even be Chuck Bass. So think twice before you start plotting whatever it is you're plotting against me."

"Hate you," Blair rasps. Her voice is low and raw with rage.

"I know," Katherine replies.

She turns her back on Blair so that when she's walking away no one can see her swallowing her guilt, swallowing her regret and the angry tears that are burning behind her eyes.

They used to be friends… But that was a long, long time ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N #2: OMG, I just won't shut up, another Author's Note? Anyways… Just in case anyone was interested in how I developed Blair's history, it is based very loosely on the real historical Waldorf-Astor family. I have taken liberties with time lines and a million other things to fit the story, but Cliveden is a real place William Waldorf Astor bought it in 1893 after he moved from New York to Great Britain due to a family feud with his aunt over the family's status in high society. - Basically I stole all that from Wikipedia so head over there if you care to find out more.


	4. Chapter Four: Reversal of Situations

1927

The air is frigid, as it should be during winter in Atlantic City. She watches as the waves crash against the shore as the sounds of the speakeasy behind her continues to roar with sounds of laughter and general debauchery. The wind whips her hair into her face, but she doesn't move to brush it out of the way.

"You look lonely."

She doesn't have to turn around to face him and keeps her eyes trained on the far off horizon.

"And are you here to remedy the situation?" she asks. "Won't your friend miss you?"

"She'll be okay by herself for awhile. What are you doing?" he asks as he takes the spot besides her.

"Enjoying the frigid air. I wanted to see if vampires could freeze if they can't feel anything. Want to try with me?" she quirks her eyebrow up at him mischievously.

"You're teasing me," he laughs. "Next thing you'd have me doing is shots laced with vervain. You really should stop playing games with me. I can never tell if you're serious or not."

She rolls her eyes, a smile tugging on her lips. "I play them because you love them so much, Salvatore."

She finally takes a good look at him and notices the dark stains on the collar of his shirt.

"Get a little bloodthirsty, Salvatore? You didn't even bother to clean yourself up."

She cocks an eyebrow at him waiting for an answer.

"It was just a brawl," he answers. His hand reaches to scratch the back of his neck sheepishly. It's so innocent in manner that it belies the beast he's capable of being. "Don't tell-"

She doesn't let him finish. "It's none of my business what your habits are. That's between you and," she waves a hand vaguely in the direction of the building behind them where loud music and chattering came from."Besides… I'm good at keeping secrets."

Her eyes glint with something predatory and he swallows a bit nervously.

"I don't want to lie to her. I just… It's been hard, but I'm trying to change. Sometimes I relapse…"

"I see."

"The guy is still alive… that's something at least isn't it?"

"I guess," Blair shrugs. "You can tell yourself whatever you want if it lets you sleep at night… Of course there's also the option of not sleeping at all." She gives him a razor sharp smile.

The smile is dangerously familiar and it makes he take a step back instinctively.

"You know… I can never quite figure you out. How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

He just shakes his head. "You slip from one mask to another so fluidly that I don't always know if the Blair I'm staring at right now will be the same one I'll be looking at five minutes later. You have so much control of yourself, it amazes me."

"Stop trying to flatter me, Salvatore. I won't fall for your charms. And believe me… it's all in the appearance. I have less control that you'd think. I'm just a picky eater." She shrugs. "Sometimes it takes a while for me to find the right prey. But once my sights are set on one… I always finish the kill."

Her words somehow come off sounding like a threat, as if she was daring him to say differently.

"I've seen you. You're calculated in your kills. You only pick off criminals, cons, people who were never really human beings to begin with. If anything you're a bit of a vigilante."

The way her eyebrows knit together and the corners of her mouth twitches downward seem to suggest that he had somehow offended her. She narrows her eyes and opens her mouth to make a comment but before she can properly answer their conversation is interrupted.

"Stefan! What are you doing outside when the party is inside?"

He turns around to see Lexi standing there with her hands on her hips. The red lipstick she has on is smudged, the various beads and pearls that hung around her neck are tangled and her dress is slightly askew.

He smiles back at her and raises a hand in greeting. "I'm coming!"

She rolls her eyes and raises an eyebrow once she notices who his company is.

"Enjoying yourself, Waldorf?"

"Oh you know me, Branson. I always know how to have a good time…" Blair gives the other a girl a good look up and down before a smirk tugs the corners of her lips. "But apparently not as much as you."

"Don't be a prude."

Without waiting for Stefan, Lexi turns around and marches back inside the bar. Blair scoffs at her retreating figure.

"I better get back inside."

Blair turns back to Stefan and gives him a small nod. "Guess you better. She has a tight leash on you, wouldn't want to choke."

He somehow manages to laugh. "Sometimes I think your bark is worse than your bite."

"Don't underestimate my bite."

"Oh believe me. I am well aware of what you are capable of… but I'd like to think maybe you're also much kinder than you'd like to let on. At least I hope so."

He hasn't known her for very long, but in terms of the vampires he's run into throughout the years, she was one of the most dangerous. Not because she was one of the rippers, those were easy to peg. They were messy, chaotic, just like their name suggests. He knows best… he was one of them. Reformed now, of course.

No. Blair Waldorf was no ripper. She was too disciplined, too neat, too calculated for that sort of thing. She was of a more duplicitous nature. Her danger lies in those Mona Lisa smiles she gives. She could be the sweetest girl you've ever met on one day and then tear your lungs out the next if she deemed it suit some sort of convoluted reason of hers. There's always a reason. That's one of the things that set her apart. She doesn't kill without intention and she never leaves mess.

She was also very beautiful. She was as pretty as a porcelain doll and about as lethal as a pit viper. Maybe that's why his brother is so besotted with her.

For him, she was a little too much like another vampire that he'd do better to forget, but to each his own. Damon and Stefan have finally agreed to disagree and so far they've managed to somehow coexist. How long this faux peace lasts however is anyone's guess. But that was a problem for another day. Currently his brother is thousands of miles away. The reason why is probably the petite brunette beside him.

"You know… Damon-"

"Let's not talk about him," she growls, holding up a hand as if to physically shield herself from the mere utterance of his name.

An awkward silence rises between the two of them as she turns her face away from his to glare at the sea.

Stefan bites his tongue and swallows his words. It wasn't his place anyways to stick his nose where it doesn't belong anyways. The affairs of Blair Waldorf and his brother are much more complicated than he'd care for.

Still there had been some hope that he naively held onto that maybe she could somehow change things. That she would be able to change Damon. Erase all that hate and anger he held on to. Reconcile all the darkness in his heart that has long festered since Katherine. And maybe just maybe… if somehow Damon and Blair could be together then so could Damon and Stefan. That they can be brothers again without fighting over the same damn girl. That they'd be able to learn to let go and move on. But things never work out quite so neatly in reality as they do in his head.

"Damon's a stubborn ass," she states plainly after a moment.

"No arguments there," he agrees.

She smiles, turning back to look at him again. She reaches up to adjust his jacket to hide the blood stains on his collar. Once she's satisfied with her handiwork she smiles up at him. "Just don't let Lexi get too close. She's probably intoxicated enough that she won't notice it."

"Thanks."

"I don't need your thanks. You owe me one now, Salvatore." She leans forward to whisper in his ear. "I'll be the keeper of your secrets."

He can feel her smiling and it sends a chill down his spine. He doesn't quite know if she's messing with him or not. He doesn't reply and merely gives her a quick nod before disappearing into the cacophony of music and voices inside the darkness of the building.

xxx

He opens the door and from the expression on his face it's like he's seen a ghost.

"Blair."

"Hello, Stefan."

He blinks back at her in that familiar boyish manner that she had come to know. It takes him a moment to take it all in. His eyes settle on the bags at her feet. The sight of them causes him to furrow his brows. He crosses his arms across his chest almost reflexively.

"What are you doing here?"

She ignores the question and merely beams up at him with her brightest smile.

"Long time no see."

"I kind of liked it that way."

"Well aren't you sunny," she drawls.

"I thought you were done with the lot of us, finished with this whole vampire/supernatural business. I've heard that you've got yourself a whole made up cushy life in New York and everything."

"I did. I do."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"Are you always this suspicious of your guests?"

"I am when their names end in Waldorf."

"Look, don't project your brother complex onto me. I'm merely here because I thought you needed my help. Damon has told me all about your pesky werewolf problem. So I decided to come and offer you my services. And yes, I just said that I came to help. You should close that mouth of your before a bug gets in. Small towns like these carry all sorts of vermin."

"You're telling me that you are here... to give us a hand?"

"Yes. Is that so hard to believe that I would be that generous?"

"Yes. It's simply isn't in your nature."

"Like you said. I've reformed."

She pushes past him and makes herself at home, reclining like a queen on his leather recliner.

"Why hasn't Damon told me any of this?"

She snorts. "That's like you asking me why you and your brother have the convoluted relationship that you do. You'd be better off asking a psychiatrist. Or maybe two. Always get a second opinion. That's always been my motto."

"He doesn't know that you're here, does he?"

She sighs and lets her head falls back so she can stare the ceiling. "What is this? Twenty questions?"

Before Stefan can open his mouth to answer the sounds of the front door opening and familiar heavy footsteps interrupt them. Blair sits up a little straighter, her countenance suddenly less petulant and more alert. It doesn't escape Stefan's notice.

"Stefan, what's with the bags in the front-"

Damon stops mid-speech as Blair stands up and faces him.

"Hi, Damon."

Somehow they find themselves in exactly the reverse situation they were in just a few weeks ago. It's funny. She went several years without seeing so much as a shadow of him and now barely a month has passed and they've come face to face again. It was as if the universe was trying to catch up with all the time they had missed.

He's silent for a long moment before finding his voice.

"What are you doing here? Why aren't you in New York?"

"You said Mystic Falls was lovely this time of the year so I thought I would come visit."

"I said it was rainy and overcast in addition to a weird fog thing that was going on," Damon drawls.

"I was getting sick of New York," she lies.

"So you left… just like that?"

"I don't understand why it's okay when you do it, but when I do you look at me like I've gone insane."

"What are you up to?" He narrows his eyes at her suspiciously. Turning to his younger brother he echoes the question. "What is she up to?"

"That's what I'd like to know as well," Stefan remarks. "Perhaps you two can hash it out while I go run some errands."

They are silent as Stefan makes his way to the door. The sound of it closing rebounds off the old cherry wood paneled walls.

"What's going on, Blair?"

"I told you. I was getting sick of New York and… I wanted to see you."

Half truths make for the best lies. Blair learned that from Katherine.

"Besides… you left your jacket at my place," she says awkwardly, avoiding his eyes. "I thought I should return it back to you."

She holds out the leather jacket to him as if it were a white flag. His eyes dart from her to the jacket and then back to her again.

"Yeah I did forget that jacket or rather I recall you stealing it from me… back in 1959," he points out, crossing his arms across his chest.

She rolls her eyes and curses him for his good memory. "It's better late than never."

"Keep it. Maybe you can use it in your next production of Grease at that school of yours."

She sighs and lowers her hand. She lays the jacket on the arm of the sofa before looking back up at him.

"I need a place to stay."

He doesn't reply and studies her instead. The silence goes on a beat too strong and she's about to open her mouth to point out to him that she had graciously offered up her own flat when he showed up uninvited so he better say yes this instant or-

"There's a guest room upstairs."

Her angry thoughts remain incomplete as her lips curls upwards.

"Sounds perfect."

She grins at him, satisfied with his answer before pushing past him and sauntering off towards the direction of the stairs.

"Oh and if you could bring those bags in the front up for me that would be fantastic," she calls over her shoulder as she begins mounting the steps.

He watches until she disappears from view before actually heading towards the living room where the bags lay. Just as he picks them up his phone vibrates with a message from Stefan.

What did she want?

He sighs and types back a quick reply.

A place to stay.

After a few moments his phone vibrates once again with Stefan's reply.

I have a bad feeling about this…

Bad feelings were just the beginning of it. Damon rolls his eyes and shoves the phone into his pocket as he heads up the stairs towards the room that Blair is probably dissecting and critiquing for every design flaw.

xxx

Elena watches Stefan frown at his phone from where she was perched on her bed.

"What's wrong?"

Stefan glances up at her and sighs, shaking his head as he moves to sit beside her. His arms automatically go around her waist and she shifts position so that she can lean against his chest.

"It's… just an old friend of Damon's came to visit. She has a history of being… a troublemaker," he shakes his head. "I don't know what she's up to, but she has an agenda. I know it."

"I thought you said Damon didn't have any friends."

"She and Damon… are complicated," Stefan shrugs. "'Friends' is too simple of a description. Their history is just about as convoluted as it gets." He rubs his face with one hand. "As if we didn't already have enough on our plate with Katherine and the Lockwoods."

Elena frowns and looks up at Stefan. "Well what does she want?"

"I don't know… but it can't be good. Seems like she'll be staying with us for a little while."

Elena perks up, sitting up straighter so that she can look at him. "For how long? Is that a good idea? Especially if it's true what you said about her and Damon being complicated. You know how he gets when he's unstable and emotional."

"You don't have to tell me about Damon being emotional or unstable, I'm his brother. I've known him for over a century. And that's exactly why I'm worried. Him and Blair… when it's good it's good. She makes him almost human again. It's once the initial honeymoon phase wears out that things go bad and believe me… things always go bad. It's just a matter of time. They're both too stubborn to make it work, but it also means they're also too stubborn to let go."

"And here I thought he wasn't capable of actually caring for anyone."

"I think Damon's problem has always been that he cared too much, but not always for the right people."

xxx

She runs her fingers across the various objects on Damon's desk. He fingers pausing when they find a strikingly familiar piece of parchment. She pulls it out of the stack and reads the cursive writing on the invitation. She scoffs and shakes her head. He's gotten oddly sentimental if he's keeping silly things like this. She traces the embossed lettering and letting herself travel back into the recesses of her memories.

She couldn't quite say that she didn't expect him there that night. She knew he was in town and that he was causing the usual ruckus as he was prone to do, but he hadn't once come see her. He made efforts to attend only the parties she wasn't at, staying away from all the fashion districts that she'd frequent and kept himself to mainly the clubs and gambling hall, places that he knew she would disapprove of.

So when she actually saw him across the room, laughing with a glass of his usual whiskey in his hands she couldn't help, but just stare at him for a long moment. As if she wasn't sure if he was truly there or just a figment of her imagination born out of lingering dreams and longing.

She watches for a beat too long and he turns, meeting her eyes. His society smile falters for just a second, but she notices it. She always notices everything he does. Then again he makes it easy for her. He wears his heart on his sleeves… that is when he isn't building stone walls around it. He gives her a brief nod of acknowledge before turning away again.

Somehow throughout the evening they were able to sidestep one another. It was a complicated dance they played, but they are both so familiar with the routine that it was usually easy to predict the next step. So maybe it was a calculated move on both parts that somehow wound up with them alone in the same room for longer than five minutes.

"I've been hearing a lot about you lately."

"Oh yeah?" He doesn't bother look at her and concentrated on pouring his drink. "And what have you heard?"

"That you're a rake, a scoundrel. An all around rogue who eats maiden's hearts."

He turns to her now, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

"Says the girl who ripped mine out of my chest."

She swallows and meets his glance.

"You never had a heart for me to rip out, Salvatore. And that was decades ago."

"I have a good memory and the pain my chest begs to differ."

She opens her mouth to make a retort only to realize there's nothing she has to say to that hasn't already been said and so she closes it and cast her eyes downward.

"We had some good moments… let's just leave those memories as they are and not taint them."

She stands up and moves towards the door only to stop short when she suddenly finds him in front of her, blocking the way.

"I hear you've been hanging out with my brother… how is he?"

"We just happened to be in the same city for a while," she shrugs. "He's alright. Some days better than others. Although I can't say he's very fond of me right now."

"Been terrorizing him, have you? Are you trying to steal away my life purpose?"

"That's a pretty pathetic purpose you got there," she scoffs.

He just shrugs and takes a sip from his drink.

"How have you been?"

He almost sounds sweet and so she lets her guard down just a little.

"I'm doing alright. I've been doing a bit of traveling."

He merely nods, for all of his impulsiveness he can't seem to find the words he wants to say to her. She watches him, tilting her head a little to the side. The light from the candles catches her face and his hand instinctively reaches out as if to stroke her cheek.

"I miss you."

Her heart breaks at the words. I miss you, too. Such a simple phrase, it could almost be automatic, but somehow they catch in her throat and don't quite make it past her lips.

His fingers stop mere centimeters away from her face before he drops his hand. A flash of hurt crosses his face for but a millisecond. He turns around stiffly and moves towards the door, but this time it's her turn to grab his hand and pull him back.

It wasn't even a conscious move on her part, her body just moved of its own accord. As if it knew better than her mind did. That she needed him. That she wanted him. And that she couldn't let him go. She wanted him to stay, if only for a little moment longer. She's tired of watching his backside when what she really wanted to see is his face.

He stops, but doesn't turn back to look at her.

"Damon?"

She can see his jaw clenching as he struggles with whatever inner demons he has inside.

"Damon… I-"

He turns around abruptly, the hurt this time apparent in his expression. He doesn't even bother to hide it anymore. She's broken down all of his defenses, ripped off all his masks and leaves him bare and exposed.

"You what, Blair?"

"I want us to be friends."

"Friends," he repeats. She sees the hardness flicker in his eyes, resenting her for diluting their relationship to something as simple as merely friends.

"Can't we be that?"

"Is that what you really want?"

'No, that's not what I really want. It's not what I want at all. I want more.' Once again the things she really wants to say gets caught up somewhere between the transmission from her heart to her mind and she ends up saying something else entirely instead.

"Yes," she tries a smile, but it's shaky and she's scared he'd see through her lies. "It's exactly what I want."

He's silent for a moment, his eyes drops to her hand which is still holding his. His thumbs draw indiscernible patterns into her skin.

"Then that's what I want as well."

He squeezes her hand gently before bringing it up to his lips to place a soft kiss across her knuckles. For a moment she recalls what it was like to truly feel again like she had when she was human.

The feeling he gives her is akin to that of a particularly icy breeze. It sends shivers down her spine, making her hair stand on its ends. It's the feeling she's been trying to imitate by standing outside in the cold every time she misses him, testing to see if she would freeze before the yearning fades or if she'd just gain frostbite that heals as fast as it forms.

"Consider yourself in possession of a friend."

He realizes his answer has probably doomed him to much more future heartache, but he doesn't care. 'If this the only way I can have you… I'll take it, because I rather have you this way than not have you at all.'

They both look at each other, smiling smiles that don't quite match their eyes and not saying the things they really want to talk about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I had hit such a mental block while writing this chapter hence the lateness. It's kind of funny because Blamon has been constantly on my mind and if you follow me on tumblr you can tell. I'm the one spamming your dash with constant Blamon gifs and graphics. But for some reason the words for the scenes in this story in particular were just not cooperating. Good news is that several plot bunnies have resurfaced from their hidey holes and so I'm gonna get to work on some more Blamon. =) As always thank you everyone for reading, reviewing, commenting and basically existing. I wouldn't be able to do it without all the support!


	5. Chapter Five: Improvisation

He makes up to the top of the stairs and turns the corner to get to the guestroom. He finds it empty except for a faint trace of her Chanel no. 5 perfume. He lays her bags besides the bed before venturing back into the hallway. He finds her easily enough. She's in his room, making herself very much at home and going through the things on his desk. There's no such thing as privacy between the two of them. He doesn't even bother pretending to be indignant.

He pauses at the threshold and leans against the doorway. He watches her backside as she picks up an old invitation that he has neglected to toss for reasons that aren't even clear to himself. She looks so young and vulnerable in that moment. He fights the urge to wrap his arms around her tiny waist, bury his face in her hair and leave soft kisses on that sensitive spot right beneath her ear.

After a moment he clears his throat. It startles her, which makes his lips tug upwards in a brief smile. It's rare that he manages to catch her off guard enough that she'd show it. It's usually the other way around. She was always good at knocking down the walls he puts up. She, on the other hand, had always been just a little bit too careful, too restrained, too reserved. It makes it so that he wants to try and get under her skin all the more.

"You're in the wrong bedroom."

"I liked this one better," she replies.

"Well my bed is big enough to share."

That brings a smile to her face. She doesn't say anything, but her eyes glinting at him tauntingly and he finds his own lips curling into a grin as well. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, drawing his eyes to them.

"This is my first time in your room."

"Well this where all the magic happens."

She raises an eyebrow up at him in amusement.

"Why did you keep this?"

She holds up the yellowing piece of parchment up for him to see. He walks over to her and takes it from her, intentionally brushing his hand against hers. She pretends not to notice and perches herself on top of his desk, crossing her legs and resting her chin on her hand. He quickly scans the page before shrugging.

"The years have turned me into a hoarder I suppose."

She scoffs at that.

"What made you decide to invite me?"

"I didn't. It was a mistake... with the guest list," she lies.

"Is that all it really was? What about all the other times?"

"Coincidences," she answers.

"I see... So it was just a coincidence every single time I show up in the same city as you I'd get an invitation for one of your parties?"

She averts her gaze, suddenly finding the grain on his desk immensely fascinating. She's pretty sure he could read her, but damn it all if she was going to tell him that she had missed him. That she'd grow tired of hearing news about his latest exploits and watching him in the corner of her eye. That she'd time and time again succumb to her weakness, her longing and her desire to see him.

Whenever she sends those invitations she would blame it on impulse, blame it on the staff for mistakenly adding him to the guest list. She would ignore the fact that his name was always handwritten rather than typed out like all the others.

"Were you always such a bad liar? I thought it was a skill you'd hone throughout the years."

She rolls her eyes at him, her eyebrows knitted together in a frown.

"You're calling me a liar?"

"I believe I explicitly used the term 'liar' in that sentence so yes. I'm calling you a liar," he answers flippantly.

"Well nobody ever said honesty was one of my better virtues," she drawls.

Her indignant attitude doesn't faze him. He merely tilts his head to one side and raises an eyebrow.

"That invitation was about the equivalent of a double dog dare. And you knew I never stepped down from a challenge. Especially one of yours."

"I guess I'm a glutton for punishment that way."

He replaces the invitation back on the desk, strategically cornering her with his body as he does so. His hands placed on either side of the tabletop.

"Am I a punishment to you?"

"On some days."

"What about the others?"

She doesn't have an answer that wouldn't betray her own heart so she just looks away once again. He reaches out a hand and gently turns her face so that she'd face him again.

"I lied, too, you know," he whispers.

"Which time?" she laughs humorlessly. "We never really were the most honest of people were we?"

"When I said I was okay with being just friends."

"Damon…"

"You know… back in November last year after I had spent a good portion of the month earlier terrorizing Stefan… I promised him that I would leave Mystic Falls. When he asked where I was going I told him that I'd go to London… to see some friends."

She swallows. That time last year she had been with Eleanor in London for a fashion show.

"He said I didn't have any friends."

"He's wrong. You have me," she tries smiling, but she knows it won't fool him.

Damon shakes his head. "No he was right. We're not friends. We were never really friends. And it doesn't matter anyways. I don't want your friendship. I never wanted to be friends."

She frowns, a little hurt by what he said.

"Then what do you want?"

"I want more."

"Damon… we've talked about this."

"No that's the thing. We haven't. We've never once talked about this. Not in any way that actually meant anything."

"Why are you bringing this up now?"

"Because after all these years I've always let you run. I never chased you. Not truly. I've always let you go. But not this time. I don't want to this time. This time I'm going to chase you and I'm going to catch you and then you'll be forced to answer with the truth. No more lies."

"And what makes this time any different? Because Katherine is no longer a viable option?"

"Don't do that."

"Do what?" she snaps, her anger suddenly flaring. She's angry at him for putting her in this position. Angry at him for making her feel the way she does. Hopeful, vulnerable, and most of all guilty.

"Try and make me fit that mold you have for me inside your head so that you won't have to face your own feelings."

"I think I should go back to my own room now. I still have things to unpack."

She puts her hand against his chest and shoves him out of her way as she hops off his desk and begins marching to the door. She was angry, but she finally realizes that it's not at him. She was angry at herself. He was right. She's a liar. And if he only knew he would never want to see her again. So she might as well be the one to leave first and spare herself another good view of his backside walking away when he finds out.

He watches her leave touching the place where she shoved him with one hand. The sound of the door shutting close echoes throughout the house.

xxx

1916

"Damon! Stop it!" She laughs and it sounds like silver bells.

"You started it!" He retorts.

"You're so immature."

She makes a show of being all sulky, but those lips of hers are still curled upwards. He is feeling cheeky so he grabs her by the waist and pulls back down towards him.

"I have to get dressed!" She complains.

"I like you better undressed," he whispers against her throat, placing a soft kiss against the skin.

She laughs, tilting her head back. She places her hand against his chest as if to push him away, but he covers them with his own, holding them in place right above his heart.

"I'm going to have to punish you."

"Are you now?" He leans back down on the bed, his hands pillowing his head in a carefree manner.

She narrows her eyes at him in mock indignation. She licks her lips and bares her fangs, dragging them across his chest, leaving hot red marks in their wake that heals almost as quickly as they form.

"Yes," she whispers against his skin.

He hisses softly and chuckles. "Are you going to eat me alive?"

His fingers lazily trail indecipherable patterns down the bare skin on her side before reaching up to cup her face to bring it closer to his for a kiss. Her fangs cut his lip and she licks the blood away.

"Hmmm… maybe just your heart."

She's grinning devilishly and he quickly switches their position so that he is on top of her with her hands pinned above the bed.

"Well that's too bad because I won't let you have it… unless you ask politely…" his head dips low to whisper wicked things into her ear that makes her toes curl.

Her hands run through his hair and grip them tightly, pulling him down towards her. His kisses are rough and match hers in fervor and impatience.

"I don't like having to ask for permission," she rasps.

He laughs. "Ah yes. Ms. Waldorf is not used to asking for anything. But I'm afraid my heart isn't free for just anybody to take."

"Well that's good, because I'm not just anybody."

"You're most definitely not," he agrees as he leans forward to kiss her again. "You're the one and only."

They are more tender this time. Her kisses are more yielding, his touches more gentle. She lets out an involuntary moan when their lips part.

"It's already yours you know…" he whispers.

"What is?" she asks breathlessly.

"My heart."

xxx

He lets her have a good ten second head start before he goes after her. He catches her just as she's about to round the corner and head down the stairs. His hand darts out and grabs her wrist just as her right foot touches the first step.

xxx

She shakes her head as she marches towards the nearest exit. Her heart is hammering inside of her chest, her hands suddenly feeling clammy, and her knees feel like they are about to give out any moment. It's a panic attack, she thinks. He's giving her a panic attack. Because he's just that frustrating. She didn't sign up for this. This wasn't part of the plan. Not at all. They had an understanding, at least that's what she had thought.

"…Are you afraid of realizing that you're just completely in love with me and if we left New York all of those perfect excuses you've formed in your head might just implode?"

His words haunt her and she growls at the memory. Since when did Damon become a clairvoyant? She thinks dispassionately.

Everything she's worked so hard to build in New York: her life as Blair Waldorf, daughter of Eleanor and Harold Waldorf, best friend of Serena Van der Woodsen, Queen B of Constance Academy for Girls, everything feels so petty now. Because when she's with Damon without the distractions of her breakfast club and entourage of mean girls to hide behind, all her excuses dissipate. All the issues that she tried to bury come floating to the surface. She's left with the difficult task of facing them now. Not something she would do voluntarily. Not that she actually have any choice in the matter. Katherine already forced her hand. There was a reason for New York. It was suppose to be her escape. But her sanctuary no longer existed.

No matter. Damon has said many things over the years. They've both said their fair share of bittersweet words, but never have either acted upon it. Their friendship had been too precious to cross that barrier. She just needed to get out of here, get some fresh air, and by the time she gets back they can go back to the way they were. Turning the other cheek. Ignoring those sidelong glances. Be friends.

"I never wanted to be friends. I want more."

He's never said that before and to her surprise she agrees. But that possibility is not an option, so she'd do better to just cross it out before it can plague her more than it already has.

xxx

He opens the door and before she even has time to let a greeting slip, he's already stepped past the threshold, taken her face in his hands and captures her lips with his. She sighs contentedly against his lips as they part, his hand still lingering on her cheek.

"Do you greet all your visitors like that?" she teases. "I'll be jealous."

"I like it when you're jealous."

"Not if I decide to sink my teeth into your chest. You better not be kissing any other girls, Salvatore."

He laughs and shakes his head. "I wouldn't dare out of fear of your wrath."

"Good."

"You're not allowed to kiss any other boys either."

She pouts in response.

"It's only fair."

"Hmmm… well I guess so…" she trails off, smiling mischievously.

"Now you're trying to get me jealous," he growls as he pulls her in by the waist and kisses her again.

She giggles and playfully push him away.

"Stop! Not out here. People can see."

"Let them see. I'll give them a good show to watch."

She laughs again when his trail kisses down her throat.

"It's not proper!" she protests, pushing him away once more.

He sighs and pulling back to look at her. "Well then. I guess there's just one thing left to do." He pauses for a moment before grinning widely and sweeping her off her feet.

"Damon!"

"If there's people watching us outside then I guess I'll just have to bring you inside."

She laughs uninhibitedly as he kisses her one more time before crossing the threshold and kicking the door shut behind them.

xxx

The memories don't slow her down. She was almost at the stairs. Just give him some time, and he will come around to reason. It was silly to try and rekindle an extinguished flame.

Suddenly his hand around her wrist jerks her, quite literally, out of her thoughts.

"Damon!"

She stares at him wide eyed. He's gone and changed the script on her. They've done this scene several times. They have always fallen into the same routine. One of them would turn their backs and walk away. The other never chased. It wasn't their way. But here he is, doing away with tradition. She's so used to the script she doesn't quite know how she's going to improvise.

"I told you that I wasn't letting you walk away anymore."

"Save it. I didn't come here for this."

"Then why did you come at all?"

"I missed you or something equally stupid. I don't know. But I'm leaving. I can find another place to stay until I find a way out of this town."

Her mind is racing. She can deal with the wrath of Katherine later. This is bigger than that. This is Damon and feelings and she just isn't ready to deal with either so she's running. Call her a coward, but she doesn't care. The alarm bells are ringing and she needs to get out of there fast. She tries wrenching her hand away, but his grip is tight.

"Damon, let go."

"No. Not until we talk. Really talk. No more games."

"I don't want to."

"Well too bad."

She huffs and raises her free hand to strike him in the chest, but when it hits him he grabs it and holds it hostage above his heart.

"Since when did you become such a girl?" she ridicules.

"Since when did you become such a coward?" he shoots right back.

She has to give it to him. His comment stings a whole lot more than hers. But she's only lost the battle, not the war.

"What do you mean to achieve from this, Damon? Do you think that by reminiscing the good old days it'll take away the pain of getting rejected by Katherine? Do you think that I can be the substitute, the one to lick you wounds, nurse your batter ego?" she scoffs.

"If it was that then I could have found any girl. You know that's not why," he answers calmly, not letting her cruel words faze him.

His calm demeanor only fuels her anger.

"Then go find one of them and leave me alone!" she screams.

With a violent yank of her arm she frees herself from his grasp and starts again towards the stairs.

"I love you," he says quietly. Almost too quiet and if she was human she wouldn't have heard him.

Such a simple phrase and yet they hold so much power. He's never actually said those specific words in that specific sequence to her before. Damon has always had a glib tongue. In the past he's compared her to the moon and stars, profess eternal devotion, and serenaded her with vows that only Romeo could profess. But such a simple phrase… he's not once actually uttered them without any embellishments, any add-ons, any addendums. This time it was simple. I love you.

Someone told her once that it's the simple things that matter. And it's the simple phrase that makes her head give pause and her heart hammering.

"What do you want?" she whispers.

She terrified. She's been running away from this moment, sidestepping it any way she can because she's hurt before and she still getting over the feeling. It doesn't help the way he's looking at her. Making her want to believe that everything will turn out fine, everything will turn out perfect. Because it never ever does. And yet she falls for it every single time.

"I want you," he emphasizes. "I wanted you in New York. But there you had your buffer of trust fund buddies to hide behind. I wanted you then, but I thought… I thought you might be better off without me ruining that perfect little life you created. But you're here now and I'm a selfish bastard. I'm sure you're not surprised. I've never tried to pretend I was anything different."

She lets out a snort and turns her head away, but he reaches out to draw her gaze back to him.

"So now that I have you here, outside the walls of New York… I am going to tell you that I want you. And you are going to stand here and listen to it. You can't hide anymore and you can't pretend. You have to face me now. I want you. I have for a very long time. And you know it's true. I know you do."

"And how would you like me to respond to that, Damon? What am I suppose to say?"

He's taken away the script, ripped it to shreds and rewritten the scene, leaving her in the dark and completely at a loss of how to properly react. She searches his eyes, her lips parting ever so slightly.

"Tell me we can go back to the way things used to be. Back in 1916." He pauses for a moment, swallows and releases her hands from his possession. "Because I am still in love with you. I love you," he says the words firmly this time, the conviction clear in his voice. "I always did. And I will continue to love you if you'd let me. All that's left is you. Tell me how you feel. Tell me the truth. If you really don't feel the same then I will forget everything. I promise. But if you do…"

He trails off, a hopeful look glinting in his eyes. He looks vulnerable. Young. Naïve. She wonders briefly if this is a piece of the Damon that Katherine had stolen away. The innocent Damon that Katherine broke.

And then she wonders if she had been that way too before Katherine.

"I don't know," she shakes her head. "Things have changed. I've changed. I can't just… pick up where we left off. It's too complicated. We can't just go back to the way things were."

"Then just answer me this. Just a simple yes or no… Do you still love me?"

xxx

"Do you still love her?" she asks.

He looks up from the photograph in his hands to meet her eyes, but doesn't say a word. His silence speaks volumes and she can't help but feel disappointed even though she already knew the answer before she even asked.

"I… I'm leaving."

She tells herself she would've left either way, they were never meant for forever.

"No, wait. Don't go."

His voice has a ring of desperation in it that only makes her surer about leaving. Damon has always proclaimed that he was a man who lived in the moment, that it was Stefan who is always stuck living in the past, but the truth of it is he has trouble letting go.

"I don't care about her anymore. Is that what you want to hear? Would you stay if I said no? Don't go."

The hands cupping her face are trembling and she closes her eyes for a minute to memorize the way that they feel resting on her cheek before pulling away.

"But can you do it? If I told you that she was still alive and well, would you go to her? Can you honestly say that you wouldn't?"

"Blair, please."

"You can't. You still love her. Look me in the eyes and tell me the truth. Do you still love her?"

"I'm in love with you, too," he says, the desperation clear in his voice.

And that's the sad truth of it. He's caught between the memories of the woman of his past and the possibilities of the woman in his present.

"You know… all I wanted was your honesty. So thank you. Even if you did just break my heart."

She turns to leave, but he catches her wrist and pulls her back.

"It doesn't matter okay? Katherine is dead and it's over. I want to start at the beginning again. Let's start at the beginning again."

"I'm sorry… I can't be what you need."

"All I need is you to stay," he pleads.

"I can't."

"Wait, please."

She doesn't.

xxx

Damon glances up at her, waiting for an answer. Finally after what seems like centuries, she finally lifts her head from the floor and looks at him. She opens her mouth as if to say something, but he never gets to find out what.

"Well wasn't that an adorable little love confession."

Katherine stares up at them from the bottom of the staircase, her arms crossed and her head tilted to the side with a smug smirk on her face.

"Oh don't mind me. I just let myself in. Please by all means, continue. I'd like to hear what your answer to his question is."


	6. Chapter 6: O Love is a Crooked Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for the long delay in this chapter. I do plan on finishing this story and I already have majority of the plot and ending planned out. It's just a matter of connecting the dots together. Unfortunately that's where I've been hitting the most writer's block. So, apologies to all the wonderful loyal readers who have been waiting on updates. I want to say thank you for reading and I promise to try and be better at updating new chapters. Hope you enjoy this one!

She laughs as he chases her through the rooms. She managed to slow him down briefly by blocking his path with a chair, but his damned reflexes and knowledge of the house landed her cornered against a wall with his hands on either side of her, with nowhere to go.

"Caught you."

"Because you cheated."

"Only because you cheat as well. I have to level the playing field," he retorts.

"It's your house! You have home field advantage!" she huffs, hands on her hips.

"Using sport terms now? My, my, Miss Waldorf. What a seductress you are," he grins.

She rolls her eyes and tries to fight the pleased smile from forming on her lips and thus ruining her faux scowl. "You're still a cheater."

"Technicalities," he waves her off with an ever growing smirk on his face. "I won. Now where's my prize?"

She narrows her eyes at him, her lips in a pout in silent protest.

"Don't be a sore loser," he accuses.

She heaves a large sigh as if what he's putting her through was pure torture. She rolls her eyes once more and sighs before acquiescing to the rules of their game. She has to go on her tiptoes to kiss him properly on the lips.

It's a brief, almost chaste kiss with her hands clasped behind her back and his on either side of the wall. When they break apart, she can't help but feel her lips quirk up in a smile in spite of herself.

"Now that wasn't so terrible was it?" He raises one eyebrow at her.

"You're not a total beast," she assents, biting on her bottom lip. "But can you catch me twice?"

She laughs as she ducks underneath his arms and head towards the adjacent hallway. He grins widely and quickly follows her.

Somehow they end up in the study. She perches herself on the edge of his desk and smiles at him coyly. She crosses her legs strategically so that her skirt rides up, exposing thelacey hem of her thigh high stockings, and wags a come-hither finger in his direction.

His smile grows wider and a tongue darts out to wet his lips. She lets out an involuntary moan. The wicked thing that man's tongue can do to a woman's heart (and nether regions) should be illegal.

He chuckles and saunters towards her like a predator stalking its prey. His hungry gaze never breaking from hers.

Maybe if he was paying more attention he wouldn't have knocked into that end table, upturning it.

"Ouch."

He rubs the back of his head sheepishly. For a moment he looks very boyish and young. The crooked smile he gives her pulls at the strings to her heart. I love him, she thinks irrationally.

She shakes her head as if in self admonishment. No, she won't get attached. She's not going to get attached. That's not part of the plan.

"Who would've thought that the usually graceful and poised Damon Salvatore would actually be such a klutz?"

He makes a face at her and she laughs, but hops off the desk to help him pick up the mess. He's finding himself more and more addicted to the sound of that laugh every day.

"What will you do without me, Salvatore? How have you manage to survive thus far is beyond me," she says with a mock sigh.

"I shall rue the day you leave me. I wouldn't know what to do with myself. Surely I would die," he answers melodramatically.

She swats his arm playfully and makes a face at him. He merely chuckles and resumes tidying up the mess he's made.

She kneels down beside him and proceeds to pick up the books he's strewn across the floor. That's when she notices it, tucked into one of his copies of Jane Austen. She would have to tease him about that later, but for now it's the photograph that intrigues her.

Blair bends over to pull it out from between the pages and is startled when she recognizes the face in the photo.

"Who is she?" she lies, training her face every so carefully as to not reveal a thing. "She's pretty."

He pauses what he's doing and glances over at her, noticing the photograph in her hand. It's been so long he thought he finally lost it. He's spent a majority of the past several years trying to forget about it and when he finally does it chooses now to resurface and haunt him.

He takes the photo from her and stares at it for while, lost in thoughts of bygone years, before handing it back to her. He stands up and makes his way towards the bar in the corner. Her eyes follow him as he walks away. It's not until he's downed two glasses of brandy before he finally answers.

"Her name was Katherine."

xxx

"So..." Katherine tilts her head to the side and raises her eyebrows. "Have I rendered you both mute?"

Damon quickly speeds towards her, his fangs bared and hands outstretched like claws. Katherine just as quickly maneuvers out of the way.

She makes condescending tsking noises at him. "Nice try, Damon. But I'm still faster."

"Only because you're about as ancient as an Egyptian mummy," he snarls.

"Ouch. And here I thought was doing you a favor. Don't you want answers, Damon?"

He scoffs. "Since when have youever done favors for anyone? Unless it benefits you somehow of course."

Blair shakes her head, snapping out of the simultaneous shock from Damon's confession and Katherine's sudden appearance. She makes her way by Damon's side and glowers at Katherine over his shoulder.

"Katherine, I presume. How did you get in here?" Blair snarls, her eyes shining with fury and promises of violence.

"Blair, don't get involved in this. She's just trying to mess with me. I'll take care of her."

Katherine scoffs. "I never thought of you to be the heroic type, Damon. But Blair here… from what I heard," Katherine quirks a conspiratorial eyebrow in Blair's direction, "isn't much of a damsel-in-distress. It's such a pleasure to meet you, Blair. I've heard somany interesting things about you."

"Then you'll know that when I get shoved I tend to shove back."

Blair bites the inside of her cheek. What kind of game is Katherine playing at? She was jeopardizing her own plan. And for what? To rile up Damon? To push her buttons? This was juvenile, even for her.

"What do you want, Katherine? What's the special occasion that has driven you out of whatever dank hidey hole you were in?" Damon drawls.

Katherine crosses her arms across her chest and sighs dramatically. "If you weren't so busy with your head up your ass, you'd realize that a pack has come to town. And they're looking for their werewolf pals. Just thought you should know."

"Thanks for the heads up. Next time just send an email. Now get out of my house."

"So much anger, Damon," Katherine taunts. "Did I ever tell you you're really hot when you're angry?"

Katherine smirks and glances over at Blair who answers her with silent glares.

"You know I almost forgotten just what a sweet talker you were. You sure know ways to send a girl's heart all aflutter."

Damon narrows his eyes at her, his hands turned to fists at his side.

"But then again… maybe you're all talk. After all, what's with all that nonsense about how you've loved me and only me for the past oh hundred and fifty years?"

"Somebody sounds bitter," Blair mumbles under her breath.

"It's what happens with age," Damon adds.

Katherine narrows her eyes on the pair, a scowl marring her pretty face.

"Please, you're damaged goods. Feel free to have a taste of my leftovers," Katherine snipes back. "Besides, I have better things to do anyways. Diabolical schemes don't plot themselves you know. Ta-ta for now. I'm sure we'll be seeing one another soon."

She whirls on her heels and saunters to the door before pausing at the threshold and turning to look back at them over her shoulder.

"Oh and Damon? Don't be so quick to give your heart away. Somebody might just chew it up and spit it out. I only tell you this because I care."

She blows him a kiss and spares Blair one final smirk.

"Be sure to take care of those pesky werewolves for me," she calls as she speeds away.

xxx

He has spent the last hour reading the latest GQ magazine. He's been lost in thought and the words swirl before his eyes. He growls and tosses the magazine aside and glances at his expensive swiss watch for the hundredth time. He mutters a curse under her breath and taps his foot impatiently as he waits for her to get back. He doesn't know why he doesn't just get up and leave, but he can't seem to physically bring himself to do it. It was like some weird invisible force that was keeping him rooted to the chair.

At the sounds of the click of the lock, he whips his head in the direction of the door. The door knob turns and she appears on the other side.

"You can get up now," she says.

The words are like a weight being lifted off his shoulders and he springs up immediately, making his way over to her.

"Where the hell did you go? I did not sign up to sit around in a hotel room all day waiting for you."

Katherine rolls her eyes and condescending pats his cheek.

"So tense. Why is everybody so tense today?" she grins as she makes her way to the seat he just vacated and plops herself down on the cushions. "Just relax, okay?"

"I will notrelax. You dragged me all the way from New York to this god forsaken, middle-of-nowhere Hicksville saying that Blair was in trouble and then when we get here you disappear for hours on end and make me wait for you in this dinky little hotel without even decent room service. Do you even know who I am?"

"You're Chuck Bass," she drawls, using air quotes around his name. "I got it the first time."

With a sigh she gets up and walks over to him, draping an arm around his shoulders. Tapping a long wicked looking fingernail against his cheek.

"Don't worry. You'll see Blair soon enough. And I'm sure she'll be veryhappy to see you."

xxx

1951

He turns her around once before spinning her back into his arms. She mouths the words "show off" at him, but she can't hide her smile. They sway back and forth to the haunting voice of Nat King Cole accompanied by the saxophone and the piano.

Later that evening good ole Nathaniel will mischievously wink at him and tell Blair that he sang "Unforgettable" just for her. She would laugh and then kiss him on the cheek while he beams at Damon smugly.

They've had a good run this time around. Somehow managing to put aside their tumultuous history and unfinished business for a good year and half and just enjoy one another's company in a moderately civil manner. It wasn't exactly the same as before. A tender dance once or twice when they attend the same party, an affectionate hand squeeze or the softest brush of a finger along the cheek should they drink enough that they could pretend to use intoxication as an excuse. They still have yet to talk about that taboo subject of Katherine or even begin to discuss why neither of them has moved on despite all the claims about how they would never work out with one another.

"You're a cruel mistress you know," he whispers to her, his voice barely above the sounds of the cicadas and crickets.

"I could say the same to you."

"You left me first," he retorts.

"You left me second," she answers.

"Are we ten?" he drawls.

She laughs, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "You started it."

"So I guess it's your turn to leave me now."

He takes a generous swig of his whiskey bottle and loosens the tie around his neck.

"Who's keeping track anyways?"

She reaches over and plucks the bottle from him and takes a swig herself. He watches her and snorts.

"I know a many great number of people who would laugh in my face and call me a liar if I told them Blair Waldorf drinks whiskey straight from the bottle."

She appraises him with narrowed eyes.

"And I would deny any accusations you make. It'll be the words of a rogue versus a proper lady."

"Don't you ever get tired?"

"I have in me the strength of a million men's blood rushing through my veins… but yes, Damon, I'm tired. I'm so very tired. Aren't you tired as well?"

"We're walking in circles, Blair. What will it take for us to stop?"

She turns away from him, her eyes searching the darkness in the distance as if she squinted hard enough she could find the answers somewhere shrouded there.

"What were you doing with the Bennett girl?"

She turns to look at him and he flinches at her question. It was more of a rhetorical question than she initially realized. She doesn't say a word and just gets up and walks away.

It was her turn to leave anyways.

xxx

Stefan comes home to the news of werewolf pack and Katherine's visit. He rubs his face with his hands as Damon relays him the story while Blair acquaints herself for the latest Petrova doppelganger model.

"So thisis the doppelganger that has everyone talking."

Elena stands stock still as the other girl circles her in a manner that she can't help thinking is a predatory gesture.

"My god… you really do look like her don't you?"

Her eyes travel up and down as she studies the striking resemblance. There's softness in Elena's eyes that she recognizes from eons ago.

Stefan heaves a sigh as Damon finishes and together the brothers join the girls around the Salvatore's coffee table.

"So boys, finished catching up? I was getting bored," Blair says cattily.

"Why? You seemed pretty occupied leering at my girlfriend," Stefan jabs.

Blair laughs. "Can't help that I'm curious. She's supposed to be the sacrifice isn't she? She's the whole reason this big ole mess is here in the first place."

"Can you not talk about me like I'm not in the room," Elena interjects.

"She speaks! Good thing, too. I was starting to think the new model was defective. I mean I only met Katherine yesterday, and you look like Katherine and sound like Katherine-"

"The resemblance is uncanny I'll admit. But she's nothing like Katherine," Damon interrupts.

Blair notices how careful Elena and Damon do not look at one another. But the way Damon's eyes had softened just a little bit when he spoke says there are a lot of unspoken feelings between the two of them. If not those of the romantic sort, then a level of trust and friendship at least. From the look on Stefan's face, she can tell he's noticed too.

Blair swallows the lump that has formed in her throat and pulls on her most pleasant mask.

"It must have been a dream come true then," Blair turns to Stefan. "You found the perfect substitute for Katherine with all the looks and none of the bitchy parts. Aren't you afraid Damon might snap her up?"

"Blair… " Damon begins in a warning tone.

She cuts him off with a sugary sweet smile. "I was just joking, Salvatore. You two already tried sharing once. It didn't work out very well did it?"

Stefan groans internally. Blair never did hide jealousy well and the last thing he needed on top of everything was the two of them in a lover's quarrel.

Elena watches the whole exchange in awkward silence.

"So what are we going to do?" Blair sighs, breaking her staring contest with Damon. "If I recall correctly there are more than your share of problems here in Mystic Falls. Let's see..." she starts counting them out on her fingers. "You've got 1) Katherine, 2) werewolves, 3) a town full of vampire-hating townsfolk, and to top it all off-"

"Blair Waldorf," Damon answers for her with a fake sugary smile of his own.

She rolls her eyes at that.

"I was going to say Klaus the evil oldest vampire in existence. I'm here to help remember?"

Now it was Damon and Stefan's turn to roll their eyes.

"So what's your plan little girl?" Blair turns to Elena.

"Plan?" Elena swallows nervously.

"Well… yes. I assume you have one," she rolls her eyes, taking a step back and crossing her arms across her chest. "Or are you just going to go offer yourself to Katherine on a silver platter based on of some sort of silly notion of martyrdom?"

Elena answers with awkward silence and a guilty glance in Stefan's direction.

"Oh. My. God. You totally were going to do just that weren't you?" Blair exclaims incredulously.

Elena's eyes narrows as she crosses her arms defensively. "I would've have done whatever it took to keep the people I love safe. And if that means giving myself up to Katherine then so be it."

"Elena, no," Stefan protests. "I can't believe you even thought that was an option."

"I can't just sit idly by and let you guys protect me. These are people I love too, Stefan."

"Oh sweetie… that's so very brave of you," Blair applauds. "Incredibly stupid, but quite brave."

"Blair," Stefan warns. "If you have something useful to say then say it otherwise shut up."

"Now, now, kiddies," Damon interjects. "Bickering will get us nowhere."

It's an odd day indeed when Damon is the one making motions for peace when Stefan is the one instigating quarrels. Elena's eyes darts between the two brothers before coming to a rest on the girl whose presence seems to have caused a whole new level of tension in the room.

"Damon's right," Elena cut in.

She lays her hand on Stefan's arm in a calming gesture and casts a furtive glance at Damon, puzzled, but grateful that he's playing the mature card for once. It's a look that makes Blair nervous and instantly possessive in spite of herself.

"Look. I know you all want to protect me. But I can't let you, not at your own risk. I wouldn't be able to live with myself."

"And so you think sacrificing it yourself is a better option?"

She barely hides the condescension in her voice.

" Sorry to break it to you, sweetie, but if you are the doppelganger and Katherine wants to offer you up to the big bad Originals as a sacrificial lamb to save her own skin, it doesn't bode well for any of us. We can't give them any more advantage than they already have."

"I agree," Damon nods. "Just because we give them what they want doesn't mean they're not just going to kill us all anyways just for the hell of it. It's what I would do."

"I hate to say it, but they're both right," Stefan sighs. "Sacrificing yourself will do nothing Elena."

"Then what dowe do?"

Everyone is silent for a moment. You could almost hear the gears turning in their heads as they run through plans after plans in their minds. It's Blair who speaks first.

"We're going to have break the curse ourselves."


	7. An Important Author’s Note (and Apology)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dearest reader,  
> Many thanks to all of you that have reviewed, favorited, followed, or in any other way supported this fic. It truly means a lot to me that you enjoyed it and I’m so sorry that I wasn’t able to continue it. It’s been nearly a year since I’ve updated and I know many of you are still looking forward to another chapter. I’m sorry to say that since I’ve stopped watching Vampire Diaries and Gossip Girl is now long over, I’ve lost about all my motivation to continue this fic. That said, I had a lot of ideas for the story and where I wanted to it to go, so I decided I would share with you all some of the writing I had for the rest of the story. Lots of it is incomplete, stopping midsentence with plenty of typos. There’s also a few notes in there that I left for myself, plot outline and what not. Lines that I wrote that I liked, but didn’t quite know where to fit in, etc… It’s not at all a complete ending, but I thought some of you would enjoy having a little bit of closure. I would also be happy to answer questions on my tumblr (fadingtales) if you feel like you just need a bit more information. I won’t guarantee that I’ll be able to answer everything completely since the story never finished forming in my head. But I’ll be happy to provide any of my thoughts about where I had wanted the story to go. Thank you once again for being such loyal readers and again I’m sorry for not finishing. It’s just a very difficult thing to accomplish when you lose all motivation and your love for the show wanes. I hope you all understand and enjoy what I have to share.  
> Lots of love and thanks,  
> fadingtales

Chapter Seven: The End of Apathy

 

The recipe for the sacrifice was relatively simple. You have a vampire, you have a werewolf, you have a doppelganger and you have a moonstone. Mix it all together with some hocus pocus and there you have it. Instant curse breakage.

 

However, the logistics of actually acquiring said items proved rather more difficult. Blair curses herself for being thrown into a group of total do-gooders. They are all annoyingly stubborn about doing the “right” thing and not harming innocents and basically refusing to do anything conducive to solving any of the present problems.

 

“I’m not going to just let you guys pluck some innocent kid off the street to turn him or her into a vampire for the sacrifice. It’s just not right.”

 

Elena crosses her arms defiantly across her chest and looks to Stefan for support.

 

“She’s right. We can’t bring innocent bystanders into this.”

 

Blair rolls her eyes. Oh, how far has the younger Salvatore has fallen. The old Stefan she knows wasn’t so whipped.

 

“We can always find some old guy who is about to kick the bucket anyways,” Damon suggests with a smile. “No one really wants a real vampire grandpa anyways. They only want hot studs like me.”

 

Blair laughs and team do-gooders glare at them both.

 

“Do you have any better ideas?” Blair crosses her arms over her chest and taps her foot impatiently.

 

“Maybe we should find the moonstone first. We get that and the rest will come,” Elena sighs.

 

“Okay…” Blair pushes herself off the edge of the desk she was resting on and walks over to the other brunette, hands on her hips. “Have any ideas about where to even start looking?”

 

“Katherine told you that there was a werewolf pack coming into town, right? Klaus is probably not the only one hunting for that moonstone.”

 

Blair tilts her head to the side and regards the other girl.

 

“You surprise me,” Blair says with a smile. “You might actually be on to something here, Gilbert.”

 

Elena furrows her brow, a puzzled expression playing on her face. “Um, thanks? I think…”

 

Stefan rolls his eyes for the hundredth time and looks over at Elena. “It’s Blair. That’s probably the closest thing you’d ever get to a compliment.”

 

Blair merely maintains her sugary smile and Damon does a little head shake.

 

“Well then. I guess we should go welcome our new guests then shouldn’t we? If anything, they’ll point us in the right direction.”

 

“You want to make friends with Cujo?” Damon asks, his voice full of obvious disdain.

 

“

 

xxx

 

“Chuck?! What the hell are you doing here?”

 

“Business trip. On behalf of my father,” he smiles at her.

 

“This is Mystic Falls,” Blair points out scornfully. “What the hell is a real estate mogul going to do in a middle-of-nowhere hicksville?”

 

“Hey!” Elena protests.

 

“No offense,” Blair quickly adds.

 

“Seems like the bed and breakfast business in small towns are all the rage.”

 

“I am not in the mood for this, Bass,” Blair hisses.

  


xxx

 

“Don’t cheat!” She warns him.

 

He was already toying with the blindfold tied over his eyes.

 

“I’m going to have to punish you if you keep fiddling with it this way.”

 

“Maybe that’s what I am aiming for,” he smirks devilishly.

 

“

  
  
  


xxx

 

She sees the wolf launch itself towards him. She’s too far away to get to him and is only able to cry out a feeble warning before the animal has knocked him to the ground.

 

“Damon!”

 

The sound of her heartbeat pounds in her ears as her vision starts blurring with unshed tears. This can’t be happening. Not now. Not after all they’ve been through. She’s gone on loving him for so long and not once has she told him properly and now he was going to die without hearing it. She scrambles towards him, the strength seemingly gone from her legs. She curses audibly at her body’s unwillingness to cooperate. She was stupid for falling for the trap and now he was the one paying for the price.

 

He braces himself for that all so fatal werewolf bite, but it doesn’t come. Suddenly the beast is thrown away from him. The sounds of bones crunching accompanied by an anguished yelp fills his ears.

 

He looks up and see Katherine flashing him a smirk.

 

“Didn’t think you were such a damsel in distress, Salvatore.”

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

“Saving your ass,” she replies flippantly. “You owe me one now, Salvatore.”

 

xxx

 

Blair had seen it all in slow motion. Didn’t close her eyes in the last few moments because she needed to see him, felt that if she did she could somehow will

 

xxx

 

He finds her in his room, staring stonily through the window. She has bothered to change out of her clothes. Mud streaked the expensive chiffon blouse, but she ignores it. It was uncharacteristic for Blair, who he has always known to be meticulous and pristine about everything.

 

“Guess werewolves aren’t the friendly sort. Michael J Fox got nothing on these guys.”*

* Michael J Fox plays Scott Howard in the original Teen Wolf movie (1985).

 

She doesn’t answer him, doesn’t even look in his direction to acknowledge his presence.

 

“At least we got the moonstone right?”

 

He walks towards her, concerned over her lack of response. Usually she would have had two or three witty retorts already and still she stayed strangely silent.

 

“Blair?”

 

He reaches out to touch her and is taken aback when she slaps his hand violently away.

 

“Don’t, Damon!”

 

His eyebrows knit together into a look of confusion.

 

“You’re mad? At me? For what?!” he asks incredulously. “I was doing what you wanted. What is there for you to be possibly angry about?!”

 

“Because you almost died you stupid moron!” She screams, fists at her side.

 

He stares back at her, blinking in shock. She doesn’t realize why until she feels the wetness on her cheek. She reaches a hand up to her face and realizes she’s crying.

 

He takes a tentative step towards her but she shoves him away and angrily rubs the tears off her cheeks with the back of her hand.

 

“You almost died! Do you not care about anything anymore? It’s just one suicide mission after another! Are you so reckless now that you care neither whether you lived or died? Because I care, Damon!”

 

“Why?” He whispers.

 

“Because I love you, idiot!” She beats at his chest. “And don’t you dare be smug because you’ve known that all along. I’ve always have. Even when I hate you I still do. Even when you’re so infuriating and insufferable. Even worse when you’re being sweet, because I know the tender moments don’ last between us. Because we’ve tried so many times, but it never ends well. Still I love you.  It’s always you. And I don’t know why. But I’m just so sick of getting my heart broken and competing with Petrovas and – why are you smiling?! I’m yelling at you! At least have the decent curtsey to look chastised!”

 

She raises her hand to strike him again, but he catches it, a smile evident on his face.

 

“I love you, too.”

 

She swallows and glares at him.

 

“Well you better!”

 

She’s done talking. Words are futile and she’s tired of explaining herself. She’d rather shown him what she means. Actions speak louder than words anyways.

 

She grabs him by the shirt collar with her free hand and pulls him towards her, covering his lips with hers in a passionate kiss.

 

His hand releases her and slowly makes their way around her waist while hers quickly tangle themselves in his hair. Where their skin touch fire ignites. It’s an exquisite pleasure that she has not had in a very long time.

 

His kisses are both familiar and new. His tongue doing wicked things that makes her toes curl and runs a chill through her spine. She wraps her arms around his neck as to pull their bodies even closer together and he hitches her up off the ground. Her legs instinctively hook themselves around his waist and he carries them across the room to the bed.

 

Her hands rake at his chest, feverishly tearing at the buttons that bars them from further skin to skin contact. She needs to feel him, know that he’s there, and know that he’s real and with her.

 

Her impatient hands are stilled by his and she pauses to look up at him, a frown on her face. He doesn’t miss the flash of vulnerability, her insecurities bubbling to the surface. He lays a soft kiss on her lips to erase them and whispers against her skin. “I want to make this last.”

 

She closes her eyes and nods before kissing him again. She knows he’s not just talking about making love. He’s talking about them being together, talking about the rest of eternity. Because she’s not the only one who’s tired of the will-they-won’t-they games. She wants this to be the endgame, the happily-ever-after.

 

She wants this to last too.

 

She touches his face tenderly and presses her forehead against his. His piercingly blue eyes never leave hers as he shrugs off the remains of his shirt and she discards her dress. His hand runs along the lace detail of her bra and slips a strap down her shoulder, leaving a kiss on the newly bare skin.

 

She arches her neck back in pleasure as he leaves open mouthed kisses along her shoulder blades. Her hands massaging the hard muscles on his back. They move downwards until they reach the waistband of his pants. She makes quick work of the zipper and slips them down his waist. Her fingers trailing delicate patterns down his abdomen, generating a soft growl from him. He kicks off the pants and pins down her wrists against the mattress.

 

God it’s been too long. The need for his touch, his kisses have been compounding by the years, making it hard for her to not fight against the restraint of his hands. She can feel the way his muscles tense that he’s fighting the same urges even as his head dips low and divests her of the remainder of her undergarments.

 

“I need you,” she whispers hoarsely.

 

She licks her lips and in a quick movement she’s straddling him, her legs splayed on either side of his abdomen.

 

He leans forward and kisses the skin above her navel, her back arches back in pleasure.

  


xxx

 

“Oh my god… It’s Damon.”

 

Katherine flashes her a look of annoyance.

 

“What about him?”

 

“All these years of you proclaiming to love Stefan and only Stefan… it’s all a lie.”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

Katherine turns, but she grabs her arm and pulls her back.

 

“Klaus has killed everyone you love. And you left Mystic Falls the first time, faking your death, to run away from him. But why would you go around professing your love for the younger Salvatore brother if it makes him a target?”

 

“You’re babbling, Blair. Has age finally gotten to you?” Katherine drawls.

 

“You wanted him to be a target! Because all this time… my god! I’ve been so stupid!” She shakes her head, beating herself up for being so blind until now. “All this time… you were in love with Damon. And that’s why it kills you every single time that we’re together. I thought it was just me. That you were trying to get under my skin and maybe a part of it is… but you were jealous.”

 

Katherine is still, her expression completely frozen, but Blair could see the turmoil in her eyes. And like slipping on her favorite mask, she flashes Blair her signature smirk.

 

“Wonderful detective work, B. You seem to have outed my secret.”

 

Blair scoffs. “You’re a real piece of work. Now listen up, you little harlot. I am done with your games. We have a deal and I am going to get what I want. No more screwing around.”

 

“Even it means continuing to string Damon along with your lies?”

 

“What Damon doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

 

Katherine’s smirk widens at that.

 

“Yes, well… he looks pretty damn hurt to me.”

 

Blair’s eyes widen and she whips around to see Damon standing there by the doorway.

 

“Damon!”

 

He turns away and her words fall on deaf ears.

 

“Damon!”

 

She moves to go after him, but this time it’s Katherine’s turn to grab her hand and pull her back.

 

“Looks like both of our secrets it out. But I have a feeling it’s yours that smarts him the most.”

  
  
  
  
  


xxx

 

There’s not much she can do for the young girl. Her transition will be hard, but there is no other way around it. She rips the day-walking pendant from its gold chain and places it in the locket that Blair has grown accustomed to wear around her neck. At least now she can walk in the sun as she would normally. It was, but a small good-bye gift that could not measure up to the amount of love and regret Katherine wanted to convey.

 

“I’ll come back for you. I promise.”

 

Despite many misgivings about the value of Katherine’s word, when she makes a promise, she keeps it. Whether that promise is one of affection or vengeance, the consequence is the same. Katherine will deliver. That’s something both Blair and Stefan will discover later on.

 

By the time Blair awakes, her life changed forever, Katherine was already long gone.

 

xxx

 

Katherine catches her arm and whirls her back around so they can see each other face to face.

 

“Why can’t you just forgive me? We used to be friends!”

 

"We used to be sisters!” Blair screams, wrenching her arm out of the other girl’s grasp.

 

Katherine’s eyes widen momentarily in shock from the intensity of Blair’s outburst.

 

Blair shakes her head and rubs her face with her hands and exhales a breath to calm herself.

 

"I haven’t forgotten," Blair states in a calmer tone of voice.

 

Katherine opens her mouth as if to say something, but she’s not sure what to say. She has so many regrets, so many apologies, she doesn’t know where to start. Even if she did, she doesn’t know if any of them would be enough.

 

Blair steels herself, but the hurt is clear from the expression on her face despite her best efforts to keep the facade of composure.

 

"But you were the one that betrayed me first."

 

She can’t bring herself to apologize properly so she goes on the defensive instead.

 

"I saved your life.”

 

"You turned me into a monster!"

 

"I saved your life!" Katherine screams. "You would’ve died if it weren’t for me!"

 

Blair just shakes her head, her eyes glistening with angry tears threatening to fall.

 

"You turned me into a monster. And then you left me.”

 

"I had no choice."

 

"There’s always a choice. And you decided to save your own skin."

 

"I was going to come back for you. I did come back for you.”

 

Blair scoffs. “Only a few decades too late.”

 

"And by then you had Damon Salvatore. How did you like my leftovers?"

 

"Yes, Katherine. Because you’re only capable of throwing people aside. He was just another victim of your selfishness, much like I was."

 

This time it was Katherine’s turn to scoff.

 

“Aren’t you tired of being victimized, Blair? Even now in this faux life of yours you’re still playing the poor-little-abandoned-daddy’s-girl card. You really need to work those issues out.”

 

"It’s kind of hard to get over if your father tried to kill you because you were a monster!” Blair screams back. “And who do I have to blame for that little predicament?”

 

“Your father was a small minded, chauvinistic pig who was going to barter you like a farmer would barter

a pig at the market. And you can shake your head and deny all you want, but I rescued you.” Katherine snarls. “I rescued you from being a pathetic little subservient wife to some overweight, balding, old lecher. Don’t lie and say that you would’ve been happier otherwise, because we both know you would have rather stab your eyes out with those infuriating embroidery needles. You can hate me for it, but I made you what you are. I made you strong.”

 

Blair closes her eyes for a moment, unshed tears burning her eyes. She takes a deep breath before opening her eyes again.

 

“ You’re right, Katherine. I became what I am today because of you. But you know what? I am tired of being victimized. I’m tired of being a pawn in somebody else’s game. So you can just go screw yourself.

I’m done. Do what you want. I don’t care. But don’t think for a second that I will take it without a fight. If I’m going down, then I’m taking you kicking and screaming right down with me.”

 

Katherine glares at her, her nostrils flared and her mouth in an angry scowl.

 

“Our deal is off. I’ll see you in hell.”

 

xxx

 

Katherine had hurt her and so she sought to hurt her back in kind. And the best way she knew how was through the one and only Stefan Salvatore. Despite all the lovers Katherine has taken over the years, Blair knew that she was particularly sweet on the younger Salvatore brother. She never really understood why, especially when Damon was a viable option. But perhaps that was just her bias, her own discriminatory heart prejudiced against the younger Salvatore. Whoever said the heart ever had to justify why it wants what it wants? And Katherine’s soft spot for Stefan was enough reason for her to seek him out.

 

She has learned that Stefan had recently parted with Lexi in pursuit of making amends with his descendants. A foolish and probably futile gesture, but it was perfect timing for her.

 

Years of watching him battle against his hunger for blood provides enough information for her to strike. Despite all of Stefan’s virtues, blood had always been his downfall. It never took too much. There was something in Stefan that craved it, much more than even for most bloodthirsty vampires. He was a ripper, it was in his nature. A darkness that the youngest Salvatore continues to wage war against, but with every droplet of blood on his tongue, a battle is lost and his restraint wanes.

 

She runs her hand across his shoulders cloyingly.

 

“Nice handiwork, Mr. Salvatore.”

 

Her smile is all sugary and sweet, but her fangs are bared and her hands are slick with blood. They leave wet tracks on his shirt where she touches him.

 

“But you liked it didn’t you, Stefan? Because you know what? It’s all your capable of. Tearing and ripping. It’s what you are.”

 

“Why? Why did you do this?”

 

“Because I’m sick of watching you play pretend. Like you some sort of redemptive hero. You’re not. You’re a ripper.”

 

“You can go to hell, Blair. Both you and Damon. You two deserve each other,” he snarls turning his back on her.

 

She quickly blocks his path wagging a finger in his direction. “Don’t want to play anymore?”

The words ring eerily familiar and for a second he sees a flash of a different pair of brown eyes and brunette curls.

  


xxx

 

“I told you I love you and you left. You don’t have the right to be angry with me! I said I loved you and you got up and walked away!”

 

“No, what you said was that you were still in love with your precious Katherine, but that you loved me too. That doesn’t count!”

 

“I loved you! Doesn’t that mean anything?!”

 

“I wanted to be the only one!” She screams back, her hands shaking. “I wanted to be the only one. I didn’t want to share you with a memory!”

 

“We all have a past, Blair. Katherine’s my past. Just you like you have Chuck.”

 

“That’s where you’re wrong. Chuck’s not my past. You are. He’s my future.”

  
  


 

xxx

“What the hell is she doing here?” He could barely get the words grounded out between gritted teeth.

 

“Hello to you, too, Damon.” Katherine smiles impishly at him, her eyes glinting with a sort of menacing delight in his obvious shock and confusion.

 

Damon ignores Katherine’s taunts and remains fixated on Blair’s unreadable face.

 

“What is she doing here?” he repeats, using all of his will to train his tone into some semblance of calm. It wasn’t doing him much good having Katherine see how much she affected him.

Blair continues staring back at him with an indecipherable expression. “She’s a guest of mine,” she replies finally.

“What? You… you know one another?”

“Blair and I go way back. Right, hon?” Katherine teases.

The older vampire’s taunts and jeers were severely grating on Damon’s nerves, but even more so was Blair’s sudden cold attitude.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he accuses.

“I didn’t think I had to report all of my acquaintances with you,” Blair retorts back icily.

“Oh, don’t blame her too much, Damon. I did kind of force her hand,” Katherine says cloyingly.

“What does she have on you? What did she threaten you with?” Damon whispers harshly to her. “Tell me. I can help you.”

He tries to reach out for her, but she brushes away his hand. She did it neither in contempt or condescension, but the gesture stung him nonetheless.

“I don’t need you to help me,” she shrugs. “I’m not in trouble. I’m helping Katherine out of my own free will.”

“It’s true, we’re best friends,” Katherine pipes in.

Damon can’t shake off his disbelief. “Bullshit.”

Katherine’s laugh echoes through the hall. “Blair and I share a bond. Don’t we, Blair?”

“Don’t make it any more difficult, Katherine.” Blair’s tone was soft, but the subtle warning was there all the same.

Of course in the usual Katherine fashion, she ignores it and goes on with her goading of the eldest Salvatore brother.

“Oh, Damon,” Katherine tsks. “After all those years and still you know nothing.”

Katherine was obviously enjoying herself and Blair does little more than cross her arms disapprovingly and look reproachful.

“Blair and I go way back.”

“What is she talking about?” Damon tries once more to reach out to Blair despite the glacial wall she’s put between them. “Can you please just talk to me?!”

Blair swallows and for a moment the cold mask she wore slipped and he could see a myriad of emotions flash across her face before the mask was back up again.

“Just go on and tell him, sweetie. He’s going to find out sooner or later,” Katherine drawls.

“Stay out of this! This is between me and Blair!” he growls. Damon’s patience was finally taking the last straw.

Katherine’s earlier playful mischief is dispensed with and she takes on a sudden chilling stern look. “No, actually it’s between me and Blair.”

“And what’s makes you so special to her?”

The corner of Katherine’s lips curls into a cruel smile as she delivers the answer. “Well, who did you think turned her? She’s been in league with me this entire time.”

The implications of Katherine words are like a hard slap in the face. He catches Blair’s eye and waits for her to deny, but she does nothing. He’s had enough of her cold indifference and turns around and slams the door shut violently behind him as he leaves.

“Well, that went well.”

It takes a heartbeat after for her to sink to the floor, overwhelmed by the guilt of her own betrayal as Katherine looks on, a satisfied smirk on her lips.

xxx

 

“Chicago.”

“What about it?” Damon snarls.

“You should ask Blair about it. Ask her what I was doing there in 1983.”

“What does Blair have to do with anything?”

“She has to do with everything.”

“Ask her, Damon.”

  


xxx

 

Stefan has moved on. Not easily, but he has.

 

Next was Damon, whose crime was thinking that she was capable of monogamy. Damon has a harder time letting go, but she knows it will never be the same. But she tells herself that she didn’t care. She didn’t want that sort of all consuming love anyways. It was never for her. He had been too innocent, too naïve, too devoted. She was none of those things.

 

And last but foremost, Blair. Things with Blair have come to a standstill. The both stand at the edge of alliance, but not across the threshold of friendship. She holds on dearly to the deal they’ve made because it’s the only semblance of a connection they have left.

 

She’s burned so many bridges she realizes she’s standing on thin air.

xxx

 

“Do really want to know what I have on Blair?” Katherine sing-songs.

“Either tell me or don’t. I’ve had enough of your games.”

Katherine’s lips curl upwards into a smile that resembles that of a feline stalking its prey. “I’ll tell you. But you’d wish I didn’t.”

Katherine circles Damon, drawing a finger across his chest before settling down on top of the large oak desk in the corner.

“Blair has been trying to find a way to reverse vampirism. She’s grown tired of being the superior species and has grown envious of those pathetic humans and their ‘ordinary’, AKA mundane and boring, life,” Katherine drawls gesturing with air quotes around the word ordinary. “That’s what she tells me of course… but the real reason why is because our little Miss Waldorf have fallen in love with a human.”

Katherine pauses to gauge Damon’s reaction, but the younger vampire has learned since their last meeting to better conceal his emotions.

“I have promised to help her on her foolish quest for mortality in exchange for her own assistance with my own plans.”

“Which are?” Damon baits.

Katherine only smirks. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Why are you telling me all this for?”

“Because,” Katherine hops off the table and saunters towards him. “I just thought you should know the reason why your friend was acting so cold towards you,” she says sweetly, her eyes widening for the maximum doe eye effect.

“Yes, because you’re always so kind and considerate of other’s feelings.”

“Well… there’s also this teensy little thing…”

“Of course… here comes the fine print.”

“I don’t intend to help Blair become mortal and I’d like you to help me pull the wool over her eyes.”

“Oh yeah? And what makes you think that I would help you screw Blair over?”

“She’s in love with Chuck Bass,” Katherine huffs impatiently, as if he were too thickheaded to understand.

Damon swallows, but refuses to allow any emotion break through his indecipherable mask. “And I would care because?” he tries for a nonchalant tone.

Katherine leans in close to his ear and whispers, “Because you love her.” Katherine pulls away smiling as if she’s already won the argument. “And being as nice and compassionate as I am… I’m going to help you eliminate the competition.”

“I’ve fallen in love before. I thought I loved you once and we both know what a total disaster that was, you turning out to be a humongous evil bitch and all. I got over it,” he shrugs. “It’s not a big deal.”

“You’d watch her throw everything, all that we are, all that we are capable of, throw it all away to be with a pathetic human?” Katherine digs.

“I won’t stand in the way of her happiness,” he answers simply.

“I should’ve known you were a coward,” she spat, wrinkling her nose. She makes an annoyed sound and crosses her arms irritably. “You’re going to just roll over like a little kicked puppy.”

“Are we done here?”

“Well… you know where to find me when you change your mind.”

 

xxx

Somehow they both find themselves doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

xxx

 

“It’s the sun and moon curse. There’s a moon stone so logic says there should also be a sun stone. The problem is what form that sun stone is in nobody knows.”

“And so how do you even know that it exists?” Stefan jibes.

“I know it exists because Katherine and I have spent the last __ decades searching for it.”

Blair notices at the corner of her eye the way Damon had stiffened. He’s still reeling from the fact that Blair has kept her relationship with Katherine from him for so long. She can see the accusation of betrayal in his eyes when he looks at her.

“

 

xxx

Katherine kills Bart Bass.

“You killed him.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Blair refuses to meet her eyes and that only seems to provoke Katherine more.

“I told you! You owed everything to me. I gave you all of it and I will take it back if I wish!” she snarls.

Blair looks up at her finally, her eyes rimmed with tears. “He was innocent. He was of no consequence to you!“

“But he mattered to you and whatever you love most, I want you to remember that I can take them all away.”

“I’ve done everything you asked,” Blair accuses. “What more did you want?! What more do you have to take in order to be satisfied?!”

“Why is it that you get to live happily ever after?” Katherine replies, her voice raw and lacking the usual cold restraint. “Do you think you’re the only one that misses being human? Why is it that you get second chance, but I don’t? I never asked to be the doppelganger. Did you think I wanted to be a vampire? Did you think I wanted my entire family slaughtered?”

So there it was. The truth. Perhaps for the first time ever she was seeing the real Katherine. Not the vindictive, manipulative bitch that she shows the world, but the lonely, desperate girl.

“Kat…”

“

 

“Don’t,” she warns. “Don’t dare walk away. I’m not finished yet!”

“

 

xxx

Before her Katherine smiles her signature knife sharp smile, the kind that she uses when all her plans fall into place. And besides her was Chuck Bass.

It’s as if the universe had imploded and put itself back together in some twisted manner. Two people who should have never belonged in the same timeline let alone the same room stood before her.

xxx

He leans near the doorframe, getting as close to her as the barrier possible could. He wonders if she’s standing behind the threshold on purpose, a way to distance herself from him. He reaches out a hand to stroke her cheek, but his fingers hit the empty air as if striking a wall.

 

xxx

“We’re done here. There’s nothing left between us anymore. This is goodbye, Kat. Forever this time.”

“Forever is a long time.”

“Not long enough.”

She turns to leave, but finds Katherine’s grip like steel trap around her wrist.

“Don’t go. You’ll regret it if you do.”

“Let go of me.”

“Are you willing to give up everything,” she makes a wide sweeping gesture to crowds of people gather around them. “All this. For him?”

“What would all of it matter if he’s not part of it?”

xxx

 

“Klaus shall be pleased to find that you have not been rotting away inside a cave. He’ll be sure to reward me generously for brining you to him.”

 

“K-Kat.”

Blair lifts her hand to reveal blood bleeding through the multiple layers of the abdomen of her dress. She falls to her knees clutching the wound.

 

“No, no, no, no, no!” Katherine brushes the other girl’s hair out of her eyes. “You’ll be okay. Shh, you’ll be okay,” she soothes.

 

xxx

“All those years ago… why? Why save me?”

“You saved my life, so I saved yours,” Katherine shrugs. “I didn’t want to be in your debt.”

“Is that really all there was to it?”

“What do you want me to say, Blair? That I saved you because you were my friend? Because I was lonely and because I thought you were too? That maybe I might actually be capable of caring for someone other than myself? Is that what you want to hear? Will it make you sleep better at night thinking that you weren’t helping a heartless, ruthless, selfish monster? Because the truth is that’s exactly what I am.”

“You’ve lied so much that you’ve started believing your own lies, Katherine. And I’m sorry that it turned out this way.”

 

“Wait. Don’t…” Katherine trails off without finishing her sentence.

“The price of your love is a cost too high for me to bear. I can’t do it.”

xxx

 

“It’s ironic really. This silly little ring that you’ve been looking for all this time… it was right there under your nose. It was meant for you. I was just holding on to it. It was always meant for you. And what’s funny is that you could’ve had it all if only you picked him. Because he loved you, but you wouldn’t know anything about love.”

 

xxx

“When will we stop being the people Katherine has made us out to be and live for ourselves? I’m done, Damon. I just want peace.”

  
  
  
  


xxx

 

“Finally! We’ve found you little sister… I was growing tired of using your name.”

 

He tilts her chin up with his hand and smiles. “It’s time to remember… Klausandra.”

  
  
  
  


xxx

He looks around him and sees his brother, Elena, Bonnie, Caroline, Tyler and even little Jeremy Gilbert. They’re all fighting for their lives, for their love ones, for their home.

In that moment he realizes that the Sun and Moon curse was never a curse. It was a love spell. Everything about it was about sacrifice, about willingness to give up everything for the one you love. That’s the reason why Klaus was never able to break it. He didn’t understand that in order for the spell to work it needed the collaboration of a group of people who were willing to die for love. And that’s when he comes to the realization that there’s no other better company of people to go down fighting with.

 

xxx

  
  


xxx

Serena’s late. A good fifteen minutes according to her Roberto Cavalli watch. They were supposed to meet to check out the new Manet exhibit together, but once again she’s left waiting alone on the met steps. She breathes out a sigh and watches as the hordes of tourists and art connoisseurs all file in the museum. As she glances back down at the exhibit brochure she’s been reading and rereading again for the hundredth time a shadow casts itself over her shoulder, obscuring her sight. She looks up and standing beside her is a tall, dark stranger clad in a simple black t-shirt that to an untrained eye might be mistaken for Gap, but she knows better. She saw that same John Varvatos shirt when she went to his runway show just last month.

“You’re standing in my light,” she says.

He looks at her rather curiously, before taking a step to the right. Now that he’s no longer backlit by the glaring sunlight she can make out the handsome chiseled features and the type of eyes that be described as windows into the soul.

“The museum is already open if you’re waiting to get in.”

“Then why aren’t you going?” he asks.

“I’m waiting for a friend.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Does it matter?”

“Well if it’s your boyfriend then he doesn’t deserve you. I would never leave a beautiful girl waiting on the met steps alone.”

She rolls her eyes at the cheesy line, but gives him points for the flawless execution.

“You’re a real charmer aren’t you?”

“I prefer the term champion of beautiful women such as yourself.”

“Does that line usually work for you?”

“Usually.”

“Well, you know there’s a first time for everything.”

As the words leave her mouth an eerie wave of déjà vu hits her and for a moment she feels as if the answers to everything are just at her fingertips, but try as she might she can’t figure out what the question is to begin with.

“Do I… know you? There’s… something oddly familiar about you, but I can’t put my finger on it. I feel like we’ve met before.”

An inexplicably strange melancholic expression crosses his face and it throws her off balance. She finds herself once again feeling as if there’s something she’s forgetting, something she can’t quite put her finger on. It’s like one of those dreams where you’re chasing after something, but every time you think you’re about to reach it you wake up and you don’t remember why you’re out of breath and your sheets are in total disarray.

“Maybe from another life,” he answers, giving her a killer smile that probably has every girl within a hundred foot radius swooning.

She smiles and raises her eyebrow at him. “Do you have a book with all these lines or have you got them memorized?”

He laughs and there’s something about it that is incredibly familiar about that laugh.

“Are you here for the Manet exhibit?” she asks, hoping that a new topic might somehow dispel the feeling of uneasiness she’s getting. That she is forgetting something terribly important.

“Not really. I’m here to see an old friend.”

“Oh, I see. Are you meeting him or her here?”

“Her. And no. She’s not expecting me.”

“A surprise then? She must be a very special friend.”

“I would move the stars for her.”

For some reason his words makes her blush and she chastise herself for blushing when he’s clearly talking about another girl.

“I am leaving soon and I won’t be coming back for a very long time so before I left I wanted to make sure she was okay.”

“Then I shouldn’t be keeping you. You should go find her and say good-bye. I’m sure she wouldn’t want to miss seeing you if you are leaving for a long time. She’d want a proper good-bye. I would.”

He doesn’t have the chance to answer because at that moment Serena is screaming her name from across the street and waving her hand in air. If it was anyone other than Serena Van der Woodsen it would’ve looked ridiculous, but Serena just looked vibrant and as pretty as always even with her hair flying every which way. She sighs exasperatedly, but waves back.

“Well I guess your friend is finally here. It was nice to meet you, Blair Waldorf. Good-bye.”

Her eyebrows furrows in confusion as she turns around to face him to ask him how he knows her name, but when she looked back he was already gone.

Serena crosses the street and wraps her arms around her shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug as she apologized profusely for being so late.

“I’m so sorry! You wouldn’t believe what happened to me this morning. There I was getting ready to leave when – Blair, Blair are you listening to me?”

Serena doesn’t get an answer and so she pulls back to look at her unusually silent friend.

“B, are you okay?”

“I can’t remember.”

“What can’t you remember?”

“I don’t know…”

“I love you. I will always love you, Blair.”

Sweet phrases like ghosts float at the edges of her memories.

“Blair, why are you crying?”

She reaches a hand up to her cheek and it comes away wet.

“I love you, but I will set you free. Don’t remember me.”

“B, what’s wrong?” Serena asks worriedly. “What’s the matter? Is it because I was late?”

She just shakes her head mutely, confused herself.

“I don’t know… for the life of me I don’t know why, but…”

A flash of blue eyes and a whispered “good-bye” echoes in her head, but just as quickly as they come they fade away. She’s chasing after memories that doesn’t even seem to exist.

“But…it just feels as if I’ve lost something very precious to me.”

Serena looks at her worriedly and pulls her back again into a tight embrace.

They just stand there for awhile on the met steps with Serena holding her while she cries silently for absolutely no reason at all.

THE END.

 


End file.
